In Darkness Cold, We Are Cursed
by JDominique37
Summary: The thing is, we tried so hard to be together. But we were cursed. Cursed to be alone.
1. Prologue

Prologue

* * *

When people think of their enemies, they think of things like spiders, a bully, a wound that won't heal. All tangible things.

I'm different. I know what my enemy is — I was told what it was a long time ago — and it can't be touched. Not with hands, at least.

I shouldn't tell you what I'm scared of, what I'm intimidated by, what makes me angry. Knowing my greatest weakness would only make me vulnerable. But I want to tell you. I want to tell someone, anyone, just to know that someone else understands me. So I'll give you a clue: what my enemy is . . . it isn't subtle, it isn't quiet, it's not rare. It's everywhere. It invades every person and it won't let them go. Ever.

After what happened with my sister, I knew I could never be free of _it_. I knew I would never be able to live without _it_. I knew _it_ was going to haunt me forever.

Because that's what I am. A body made up of thoughts and emotions and actions — all directed by the one thing that completes me.

Have you guessed what it is yet? Have you guessed my enemy?

All right, I'll tell you:

_Fear._

* * *

**Author's Note: Hello there! This is a start of a new story of mine (a novel, actually). It's a Frozen/Rise of the Guardians/slightly Tangled crossover, in case you didn't know that already. I have the whole novel written out, and am editing the last few parts of it, so I should be posting regularly in the next few days. However, I couldn't help from posting the prologue and the first chapter now! I'm PSYCHED about this story. Hopefully, you're going to like it. **

**Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you'll love it like I do - the more you read, of course. **

**- J. Dom**

1


	2. Part 1 — Chapter 1

**Author's Note: So here's the novel I promised you . . . I hope you like it. :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or Rise of the Guardians.**

* * *

_Part 1 — Elsa (For the First Time in Forever)_

* * *

Chapter 1

The Picture of Sophisticated Grace

* * *

I bite my tongue until I taste blood.

"Conceal, Elsa," Father says, "don't feel." He wrings his large hands together.

I say quietly, "I know — don't let them in," but inside my thoughts are raging: _You think I'm not trying?_

Mother reaches forward to touch me, but I shrink back without even thinking. I have become used to my isolation. A thought that sickens me.

I look ahead of me, and tug at my skirt.

"You control it, Elsa," Father says. "It doesn't control you."

"I know!" My voice cracks on the last word.

Father's brow creases, and he, too, tugs at his clothes as he watches me take off my gloves.

It feels odd to have my hands bare, to feel the cool air upon them, to have the thought of being able to touch anything — but nothing. I close my eyes, take in a deep breath, and reach for the goblet in front of me.

This is our routine. Every day, we'll walk to an empty room, in an abandoned hallway, in a deserted corner of the castle, and every day, I will touch something, and try to control my powers. If I fail, we will try the next day. And so on.

I know it will end someday, though. There are two options: Either I will be able to control my powers with ease, or I will not.

I don't need the looks on Mother and Father's faces to know which one is more likely.

My hands are shaky, as I turn around to face my parents, holding the goblet. Progress. I haven't frozen the golden cup yet. But it grows colder in my hands. I try clearing my mind. Colder still. Think nothing, think nothing. Until —

"Elsa!" Father cries.

I drop the goblet, and Mother and Father leap back. It shatters when it touches the floor, ice spilling around in pieces.

It is not unusual for this to happen. That's why I didn't try and get my hopes up. Notice the word "try." No matter how hard I push the hope away from me, it always comes. Every single day. And every single day, I wonder, will I finally be able to control it? Has something changed from yesterday? Do I have to live in fear anymore?

But every single day, that hope is shattered, just like the icy pieces on the floor.

I don't look at them. I don't remind myself what I have done. What I _am_.

"Elsa," Father says, his voice soft.

I stiffen, and stare across the room, not at my parents. I notice the fire gently burning in the corner, the tables and chairs arrayed perfectly. The unlit chandelier on the ceiling. The carpet cushioning my feet.

"We've been thinking — "

Nothing good can come out of this. I wish I could block their words out of my mind, but I have no power over sound.

"We've been doing this since . . ." Mother doesn't finish, and her violet eyes start to water. I know what she is talking about — since I hurt Anna. That was ten years ago, but I still remember that night perfectly.

The burst of power from my fingers. Anna falling. A stripe of her hair turning white. Her body going cold in my arms, as if she were dead.

"Anyway," Father says, "we've decided you need a better way to practice learning control."

"What do you mean?" I ask, my body numb.

Father glances at Mother. "We haven't decided exactly," he says, "but we're thinking more exposure might be good for you."

"What do you mean?" I say again. "I can't go out! I'll — I'll hurt someone!" I hate saying the words, but how else should I say it?

"Elsa," Father says, "you won't hurt someone. You just need an incentive to try harder."

My anger bubbles over the top, and before I can stop myself, it all spills out. "You think I'm not? You think I'm not trying as hard as I can? Do you think this is just a game for me, that I'm not serious about it?"

"No!" Mother says. "That's not it at all!" She's shocked. She's rarely seen me this way. I have always been a picture of perfection, always the good girl I have to be. But now . . . Mother continues, "We just think . . . you've been so sheltered for the last ten years, Elsa. Maybe it's time you got out some."

I yearn to relent, to say yes, that I'd love to see people, hang out with others my age, maybe make friends.

But this is what I say: "No. I can't."

Father sighs. "We are doing what is best for you."

"I know."

"So whether or not you approve of this new move, it is being implemented. Your mother and I have already made some changes."

"Father, Mother, no —"

Father talks over me: "This is for your own good. We believe it will help you greatly."

"I can't do this!" The blood rushes from my face and my body shakes, as I struggle to reach the wall so I can lean against something.

I imagine seeing people. I imagine talking with people. Becoming close to people.

And then I see ice covering their lips, freezing their voices. I see snow bearing down upon them, freezing their bodies. I see the cold and darkness drowning them, freezing their thoughts into anguish.

I can't. I can't. I can't.

"You can do anything, Elsa," Mother tells me, and she reaches out and touches me.

I jerk back, but I still feel the warmth of her touch lingering, and oh, how I long for her to touch me again.

How I long for warmth.

* * *

I know the exact pathway that will get me to my room undetected. Out of the empty room, skirt down the hall, hide behind a tapestry if needed, turn the corner, up the stairs, and there is my room.

Usually, there is no one in this area, the chambers of royalty being private. However, as I walk to my room, I hear footsteps echoing through the hall. My eyes widening, I dart behind a tapestry of a unicorn, the dark folds covering my body.

The footsteps stop, and I catch my breath. Maybe whoever it is can hear me breathing, or maybe — I glance down — they can see my feet. I cringe as I realize that tapestry isn't quite long enough to hide my feet.

"I know you're there," a male voice says. It's young and pleasant-sounding.

Since it doesn't seem like he will do me harm, I uncover myself from the heavy cloth. When I look up, I see a boy who is holding a broom. He can't be much older than me; his hair is brown, and so are his eyes, a color like chocolate.

When he sees me, he gapes for a moment.

"Princess Elsa," he says, and he bows.

"No, no," I say, "it's okay."

I try and search for a memory of someone bowing to me in the recent years, but I find none. The action before me is making me uncomfortable.

The boy straightens, and I notice, for the first time, that he's good-looking. A blush creeps up my cheeks, and I straighten my hair out of my eyes and make sure my bun is still in place.

"I — I'm sorry —" he stutters. "If I had known it was you —"

"How did you?" I interrupt.

"How did I what?" Confusion touches his face, and I have to admit, it's slightly cute. His eyes widen just a bit, and a wrinkle graces his brow.

"How did you know it was me?"

"Oh." He gestures at my clothing. "No servant wears that. You're obviously not the queen, and everyone has seen Princess Anna. That only leaves . . . you."

"Me," I say. His tone isn't offensive at all, but more apologetic. Like he knows how strange this must be for me, having never really seen or talked to a boy my age. Not that he would know that. He must think I am shy or unsociable, and that is why I never attend the town's festivals and celebrations, and that, for the last ten years, barely anyone has seen my face.

"I'm sorry," he says again, "if I've insulted you in some way —"

"You haven't," I say, and when he doesn't look reassured, I smile at him. The smile feels forced, as I haven't exercised those muscles in a while.

Maybe not even for the last ten years.

I don't know.

My smile must be convincing, though, because he relaxes and smiles, too. I decide I like his smile. It's easy-going, like he does it a lot, and there's a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

"What's your name?" I ask him.

"Jack," he says, "I'm Jack Frost."

"Have you . . ." I search around for something to say. "Have you lived in Arendelle all your life?"

"No," he says. "My family and I just moved here. My family does cleaning business." He rolls his eyes, like this is some joke I should know about. "We were offered a job here." He motions to his broom. "I was sent up here to sweep."

Odd. I didn't think Mother and Father would hire on more servants than we already have. Maybe this is part of their "Elsa Needs Exposure" project.

And, looking at Jack, maybe it won't be so bad.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading Chapter 1! I'm really excited about this story, and I hope you are, too. Then next few chapters should be up in a bit (I'll try and get them to you as fast as possible). Again, thank you for reading! You're awesome, I hope you know that. **

**- J. Dom**


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Nothing Like the Life I've Led So Far

* * *

"Jack Frost," I muse. "That's an interesting name."

"We're from a ways away," Jack says quickly, moving the rug out of the way and sweeping under it with his broom.

I shouldn't be spending time with this boy, but he intrigues me with his quick smile and the way he carelessly cleans the floors. For a boy who has been in a cleaning business his whole life, he doesn't know how to do it right.

Or perhaps he's just gotten tired of doing the same thing over and over again.

Like I have.

"I've only ever been in Arendelle," I tell him.

He nods. "I figured."

"And why would that be?"

"Well, there are two possible options," he says. "Either you've traveled a lot and that's why no one's seen you . . . which isn't likely because someone was bound to see you. Or you've been stuck in this castle your whole life."

"Observant, are you?" I add a level of lightness to my voice, to play off how close his guess really is.

He shrugs. "I don't really have much else to do." He finishes sweeping, and kicks the rug back into place with his foot.

"You should take off your boots," I say.

"What?" He glances down.

"If you want to clean a castle, you need to clean yourself first."

He notices the mud on his boots, and slaps his hand to his forehead. "I forgot!" he says.

I smile. "Are you often forgetful?"

"You'd think that since I do the same thing every day that I wouldn't be." He sounds exasperated, but there's a pleased look on his face.

"Don't worry," I tell him. "I do the same thing every day, too."

A smile quirks on his lips. "Are you often forgetful?"

I consider all the memories I have stored in my mind, all the things I wish I could forget. I say, "Never."

I meant to be joking about it, but my thoughts must've translated into a tone that gave me away. Jack's smile disappears.

"Are you okay?" he asks, stepping forward, reaching his hand out.

"I'm fine." I move away and my back hits the tapestry I'd hid behind moments before. I dart out and away from Jack, and start to walk to my room.

"Hey!" he says.

I don't say anything back.

"I'm sorry!" he says. "Did I offend you? Please forgive me, Princess Elsa."

_Princess Elsa. _

I know I shouldn't look back. I know I shouldn't say anything more. I've already done enough damage, and if I spend time with this boy, I will do all the more.

But I do look back, and I do say,

"It's just Elsa."

* * *

**Author's Note: And here is Chapter 2! It's short, but I'm uploading Chapter 3, too, so that shouldn't be a problem. Anyway, what do you think so far? (Also, if you notice any typos or grammatical issues, please tell me! Thanks!) Can't wait to share more with you guys. **

**- J. Dom**


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Don't Let Them In

* * *

When I reach my room, the first thing I do is make sure I get to my bed, so I don't collapse onto the floor. Then I cry.

The tears come fast, spilling out of the corners of my eyes like it's some sort of race to drip down my chin. I wipe them away as quickly as I can, but they keep coming.

I don't make any noise. I can't let anyone hear me. Anyone know that I am weak and vulnerable.

I have to be strong. For my parents, for my sister. For people like Jack. I will be their queen in three years. I have to be strong for them.

The temperature in my room drops a few degrees, but it doesn't bother me. I am used to the cold and the darkness and the loneliness.

I look up, though, because I know what the dropping temperature means.

Ice is creeping over the ceiling and icicles form, drooping down, all pointing straight at me.

_Get it under control, Elsa. You have to get it under control. _

I breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

And, after several long, tortuous minutes, the ice stops growing. No longer supported, the icicles fall to the ground, but none of them fall on me.

I almost wish they had.

* * *

I must be pale when I walk into the dining hall.

Mother gasps and says, "Elsa, what's wrong, darling?"

"Nothing's wrong," I say. I try to sound strong, but my voice trembles.

Drawing a chair out from the table, I sit down, and fold my hands in my lap as I wait to be served dinner. I see that my parents don't buy it, but they let it go nonetheless.

Anna, late as always, runs into the dining hall, breathless.

"Sorry I'm late," she squeaks. "I was just . . ."

I notice that the ends of her dress are wet. She's been playing in the summer rain and puddles.

Remembering the days when she used to get her dress wet from the snow _I _made, I shiver and close my eyes briefly. I won't think about those memories.

Anna curtsies to our parents, and sits down beside me. Briefly, our elbows touch.

I wish she wouldn't do that. Seek contact every time she sees me. It only makes it harder for me to have to ignore her and avoid her and scream at her to _stay away_.

But even though I've asked her not to, she still does it.

I am a traitor of a sister.

Our food is served and all is quiet as we take our first bites. Anna fidgets besides me, which isn't unusual, but I know she has something to say.

After half of the food on our plates is gone, Anna bursts out with, "Can we have a ball?"

I drop my fork onto my plate and the silver clatters and clangs.

"No," I say, and I straighten my posture.

Anna looks at me. It's almost accusatory. I know she must resent me for what I've done, but so often she acts like it is nothing that sometimes I have come to believe it is. Nothing. Yet when she gives me looks like now, I remember that no, it is not nothing.

Father ignores my protest and says, "What do you mean, Anna?"

"I mean, well, I was just wondering — it would be really great if — you know, we could have a ball or something?"

I almost smile. Anna's stuttering is endearing.

Almost.

"Or something," Father repeats. "Explain yourself, Anna."

Anna takes in a breath. "I know we haven't really had much going on lately, and I know there's probably a reason for that . . . but I'm fifteen, and Elsa's seventeen. We're almost of age, Father. Don't you think we should get out there and get to know our subjects?"

"Actually," Father says, "your mother and I have been thinking of the same thing."

"Really?" Anna's eyes light up. I wish that her eyes would light up when she looks at me. But now, now there is just resentment.

"A ball might be too soon, dear," Mother says, patting Father's arm.

"You're right," he says to Mother. He turns to Anna. "We'll think about it, Anna. Please be patient while we make our decision."

Anna looks like she's going to fight for a decision now, but decides against it. She and I both know Father doesn't like arguing for your own selfish desires. Father hates people who are selfish.

Father hates me.

* * *

**Author's Note: So . . . what do you think of Chapter 3? Interesting enough, or too slow? I'd love to hear your opinions! I'll try and upload the next few chapters by the end of the week. Thanks for reading, peeps!**

**- J. Dom**


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Make One Wrong Move . . .

* * *

I've always known that I have to be perfect.

When you look at Anna, you know immediately that she's not perfect.

I'm not saying that's a bad thing. I love Anna's imperfections, and often, I wish the imperfections she has were the only ones I have.

If you don't _know _about me, you might think I'm flawless. I'm a good girl, always saying the right things, doing the right things. Rarely, though, do I think the right things.

Sometimes, I want to rage and punch the walls and scream and cry. But I don't. Because my parents expect better of me. They expect me to be perfect. And after everything I've done . . . everything I am . . . I can't let them down.

I can't control my powers . . . but maybe, just maybe, I can control everything else.

* * *

"Elsa," Father welcomes me as I walk into the throne room.

"Your Highness," I say, and I curtsy.

Mother sits in her throne, as regal-looking as always, her brown hair tied into a bun like mine, her eyes drifting over me and the guards.

Father scratches chin. "Please leave us," he says to the guards. Then, "Elsa . . . I know this isn't what you want . . ."

I tense up. Nothing good can come out of those words. When Father hesitates, I say, "What is it, Father?" Better get it over with sooner than later.

Blandly, Father says, "We have decided to take your sister's suggestion and have a ball."

Some part of me knew this was coming. Some part of me hoped it wasn't. Some part of me wants it to be true. Some part of me doesn't.

Needless to say, I am conflicted.

It takes me a few moments to realize that while I've been warring within myself, Father and Mother have been staring at me expectantly. Probably waiting for me to protest.

I clear my throat. "Father, Mother, I believe you already know my views on this. However, if this is your command, it is my duty to obey."

"It's not a command," Father says softly. "It is a request."

Surprise floods me. Since when have _I _had a choice in the matter? Since when have I been able to _choose _what to do with my life?

"May I be given time to decide?" I ask my parents.

"It would be best if we could be given an answer now," Mother says. "Your eighteenth birthday is coming up, and we would like to use that as an excuse to have this ball."

Oh. Not only would there be a ball, it would be a ball celebrating me. It would be the first time for many to see me.

For the past ten years, Father and Mother have put out the story that I had contracted a disease that made me sensitive to the sun's rays. Looking at my pale skin, you would never guess that the story was fake.

Careful to not hinder my abilities of being queen, Father and Mother also put out word that they were actively looking for a cure and would find one soon.

"If you choose to do this," Father says, "we will tell the people that we have found a cure, and to celebrate that and your birthday, we decided to have a ball. From then on, we will start putting you out slowly into the world.

"If there is a drawback, we can easily say your disease has increased. You can be safe this way, Elsa. And you can be the queen everyone knows you can be."

That is the closest Father has ever come to complimenting me. I know I should feel grateful, pleased, happy even. But I just feel empty.

"Elsa," Mother says, her eyes darting around, not looking at me, "what do you think?"

I wet my lips and try to swallow, but my mouth is dry. Taking in a deep breath, I say, "You know my view on this."

Father stiffens.

"However, if you believe this is the right thing to do, I will do it."

"I believe it will help you," Father says. "So does your mother."

Mother nods vigorously.

"Don't you also believe there is danger in this?" I ask. I look around, making sure no guard has stayed in the throne room. It's empty. I continue, "I could easily lose control. You both know my emotions are tied into my ability to control my powers. And if we do this, I'm sure I'll have an onslaught of strange — new emotions that can't be predicted."

"Your mother and I have thought of this," Father says. "We have contemplated both the goods and the wrongs. We both are strongly in the favor of letting you do this. You will need to get to know these new emotions for i— when you are queen." I notice he slips on a word, which is unusual for my father whose words are usually as smooth as silk, but I don't wonder about it. I've stopped trying to understand my parents. Or at least my father. Mother may be easy to understand, but Father is a mystery.

"I understand your point," I say.

"And?" Father prompts.

I swallow again.

"Will you do this?" Mother asks. "For us . . . and for yourself?"

What should I do? runs through my head a million times before I finally say, "I will."

* * *

**Author's Note: And here is Chapter 4! So . . . how are you liking it so far? Worth continuing? :P (I'd continue it anyway, regardless.) Chapter 5 should be up in a few days. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy what I have here!**

**- J. Dom**


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Why Have a Ballroom With No Balls?

* * *

I haven't seen Jack since the day I met him. And that, partly, is my doing. I don't want to see him again. He's nice and funny and charming. I am secluded with no social skills — and I am dangerous. If circumstances were different, I would be trying my hardest to become friends with the boy, but I'm not because I can't.

I don't want to hurt him. I don't want to hurt anyone.

It's been three weeks since Mother and Father asked me about the ball. And a week from today is the ball.

In the solitude of my room, I chew on my lip, and glance around, remembering what the room used to look like. I see the small bed I used to sleep in. I see the purple curtains, opened to the outside. I see the dollhouse Anna and I used to play with.

And then I see the bed I have now, large enough to hold four people. I see the curtains, pulled over the closed window. And I don't see the dollhouse, having been taken away a long time ago.

And now, there is frost covering all of it.

I creep to my bed, and lie down. I wish it was still small like I used to have. Now, it feels like I should have Anna sleeping in it with me, like she used to do as a child. It is too big for just me.

Curling up into my bed, I put my arms around myself, and silently rock back and forth, back and forth.

There's a knock on the door.

"Elsa?"

"Go away, Anna," I whisper.

"Elsa," Anna says. "We need to try our dresses for the ball on one last time. Just to make sure they fit. . . . Elsa?"

Groaning, I lift myself out of my bed, straighten my clothes, and walk to the door. Before I open, I hesitate.

Anna seems to sense me there because she says again, "Elsa? Are you there?"

"I'm here," I say quietly, but loud enough to be heard.

I hear Anna sigh in relief. I open the door, and slip out, trying to reveal my room as little as possible. Anna, as usual, tries to spot something inside there, but she is disappointed. As usual.

Anna smiles at me, a brilliant smile, and I wish it wasn't fake. I wish she would look at me with enchantment in her eyes like she used to.

I wish a lot of things, but none of them ever come true.

"All right," I say lightly, "where do we go?"

Anna leads me away from the private quarters, and near the servants' quarters, where Carina, our seamstress, waits for us.

"Hello, Princess Elsa and Princess Anna," Carina says, smiling. She pushes a wisp of brown hair back into her bun. "I've made just a few adjustments to your dresses. And now, I believe they are ready to be seen and tried on."

Anna nearly jumps up and down in excitement. Anna isn't vain, but she does love dressing up, especially for the first ball in both of our lives.

Carina moves to the closet, and opens the doors.

Anna gasps loudly, and I nearly do, too.

Inside the closet are two of the most beautiful dresses I've seen.

Anna's is purple, with some black and white tints in it that give it a regal air. Flowers curl up on the side of the dress, wrapping around the body. Hers is beautiful.

But not as beautiful as mine.

My dress is blue and purple, the royal blue dominating the purple, though. I also have flower designs, but they are on the bodice only, and they are a silvery color, almost like my hair. The sleeves are long, which is how I prefer them, and the dress's skirt is a dazzle of different shades of blues and purples.

It's so . . . me.

"How did you do this?" Anna squeals.

Carina beams. "I did my finest job for our princesses' first ball."

I feel like I should say something, but I'm speechless. Carina glances at me nervously. Finally, I say, "It's beautiful, Carina. I love it. Truly. Thank you."

Carina's beam is as bright as a lighthouse's flare.

Carina helps Anna into her dress first, and as it slides over Anna, I take in a deep breath. It looks absolutely lovely on her.

Until now, I hadn't realized how beautiful Anna has become. How she is growing into a woman. Just like I am.

And I know that I can never take back those years I shut her out of my life, and, sometimes, didn't see her for months at a time. Missing important parts of her life.

I can never get those back.

Once Carina is done marking adjustments to Anna's dress, she helps me try on mine. I close my eyes as the dress floods over me, so soft it's like feathers, so smooth it's like water.

When Carina turns me around towards the mirror, I finally open my eyes.

I have never worn a dress like this. Never worn something that highlights the color of my eyes and my pale skin without making me look dead or sickly. I have never seen something like this on me. Something that's not dinner clothes or formal clothes or sleepwear or play clothes. I have never worn a ball dress before. Something like this . . . it's amazing.

"Carina," I say, "I don't know what to say. This is wonderful."

Carina smiles at me gently, but there's something behind her smile. Something I can't exactly decipher. Is it sympathy? Is it guilt?

Why would Carina feel sorry for me? And why would she be guilty?

Unbidden, answers present themselves to me. She feels sorry because I've been trapped in this castle my whole life, because just now I am having my first ball, that I must be so insecure and pitiful. And she is guilty because she has thought these things.

I stare at Carina, unable to hide my shock at my thoughts. Surely she can't be thinking these things. Surely sweet Carina would never think these things.

But it's all written on her face.

Carina sees me staring and her smile drops. Immediately, a look of fright appears on her face.

"Your Highness," she says slowly, "is there something wrong?"

I straighten, and start to pull the dress off, but get tangled in the billows of fabric. "Help me," I snap at her, and Carina hurries to obey, tripping on her feet, her hands trembling.

I should feel bad.

But I don't.

I have wondered all my life what people must think of me. But it's even harder when you see what they think of you, and it's not what you hoped it would be.

* * *

I leave the fitting room as soon as I can. I can feel Anna's reproachful looks on my back, but I don't turn around.

When will this ever end?

I let loose a breath, and turn the corner, running straight into someone.

I let out an unprincess-like grunt, and fall backwards. Someone grabs onto me and pulls me up.

I look up to see a boy.

How many new people have Mother and Father hired?

The boy has hair as black as mine is white, and eyes the color of gold. His chin is angular, and his cheekbones high, his nose slightly big. He's cute.

Like Jack.

The boy stares at me. "I'm so sorry," he says. "I should've been looking where I was going."

What is it with me and running into boys and them apologizing to me?

I should get a new hobby.

"It's fine," I say. "Don't worry about it."

I realize he's still holding onto me, and I quickly back away. Color floods into his face as he realizes what he was doing.

"I'm sorry," he says again. "May I introduce myself? I'm Ash. Ash Frost."

I blink. "Are you a brother of Jack?"

His mouth tightens. "Yes, yes. Jack's my brother. You've met him?"

"I've run into him before," I say nonchalantly.

Ash nods, but we both know he knows I'm not entirely telling the truth. He looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to introduce myself. Which I forgot to do.

"I'm Elsa. Princess Elsa," I say.

"Princess?" His eyes widen. "Oh, Princess Elsa, I'm so sorry." He bows.

"It's fine," I say again.

He straightens and offers me a smile. Albeit, a tight, forced smile. I return his smile in kind.

We stand there awkwardly for a few moments. Should move away in a dignified manner, but I want to know more about the Frosts.

"So, Ash Frost," I say, trying to think of a question to ask. "You and your brother Jack . . . just moved here a few weeks ago. Is that correct?"

"Right," he says. "From Inmeracia."

Jack didn't tell me that. Inmeracia is far, far away. They must've traveled a lot to get here. But why here? Why would they come all the way to Arendelle, an isolated kingdom, that isn't known for its awe-inspiring landscape or its good trade or anything like that?

I place my hand on the wall for support. Thoughts whirl around in my mind. What if these boys have an ulterior purpose? Are they running from something — or to something?

I shake my head at myself. _Don't be stupid, Elsa. _What are my thoughts getting into? Am I so paranoid nowadays?

Ash stands with his hands behind his back, patiently waiting for me to say something or dismiss him.

"I'm sorry," I tell him. "I just got faint all of the sudden. It's quite hot, don't you think?"

"It's cool in here," he says.

He's right. The temperature is dropping.

Oh, no.

I look at my hand, still touching the wall, and I see just a bit of ice slithering under my fingertips. I snatch my hand away, and make sure my glove is still in place.

Ash's eyes dart to the wall for just a moment, and a look of disconcertment comes over his face. Then he looks back at me, and the expression disappears.

"I'm sorry," I say again. Now I am apologizing to him. A commoner.

"It's okay," he says slowly, like he knows something is up.

My heart speeds. Maybe he is here to spy on me. Maybe that is why I have met both him and Jack in abandoned corridors. In places where no one else is around.

Ash takes a step back from me. And I take a step back from him.

We're both on alert.

Does he know? Does he know about me? My powers? Why I've been concealed all this time until now? Does he know?

Finally, he says in a low voice, "I'm not going anywhere." The tone is threatening, and it makes my blood boil inside me. The words themselves, torn apart, may sound innocent, but together, in a sentence, they have so many different meanings — I can't decipher all of them.

"No," I tell him, "you're not."

I turn, and start to walk away. I can feel his gaze burning into my retreating form.

* * *

**Author's Note: Good news: I'm updating with two nice, long chapters today! Great news, eh? ;) Anyways, hope you liked this chapter. Thanks for reading. 3**

**- J. Dom**


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It's Only For Today

* * *

After the realization that it might be very possible that the Frosts are spying on me, I make sure to steer clear of both of them. If I have it my way, I will never see them again. And they will never see me again.

That's how it should be.

They don't want to know me, after all. They don't want to know about my powers. Only anguish can come out of that. Take my parents and Anna and me as examples. Anna doesn't know about my powers, but she has been hurt by them. In more ways than one. And my parents . . . every day, I can see the strain my power puts on them.

I wish more than anything that I could stop it somehow. _Kill it. _

Before it kills me.

I don't tell Father and Mother about the Frosts. I figure they already know about that, and how would my small suspicions change their opinion anyway? They must've hired the Frosts to keep an eye on them.

And if I'm wrong, and they're not spying on me . . . then Father and Mother will get worried about nothing.

I don't want to worry them more than I already do.

Meanwhile, the ballroom has been scrubbed clean and to perfection. Dishes upon dishes of succulent food smells waft around the castle, infiltrating everyone's noses and making their mouths water for dinner.

The ball is today.

I'm not ready. I'm not ready. I'm not ready.

Tomorrow is my birthday, but today is when we're celebrating. And today will be the first time I have shown my face to my subjects in a very long time.

Carina helps me put my dress on in the confines of my private dressing room. I don't spend much time in here, so it isn't covered in ice yet. But if you look closely, you can see the sheen of frost. I hope Carina doesn't notice.

I'm still in awe of the dress, but now, I hold a certain resentment for it. Maybe it's because it's almost too beautiful for me. Someone like me doesn't deserve it.

Carina keeps up a steady flow of gossip while she makes her final adjustments. "There is so much talk going on," she says. "People are splurging on everything! I say, the bakery was flooded today when I went in to get my daily scone."

I force a smile. "Is that so?"

"And the cobbler is busier than ever. You won't believe how many people want their shoes to be fixed, but do it right before the ball!"

"I can't imagine," I agree.

Carina doesn't notice my minimal comments, but keeps rattling on.

I'm grateful for it actually. Even though I'm sure she thought horrible things about me, she probably didn't mean them. I don't mean a lot of things I think.

Once we're finished, I'm led to a door outside of the ballroom where I will enter, and make my way in front of my subjects. Where I will raise my voice above the crowd and make a speech.

That's right. Father's making me say a speech because it's my "duty as princess and future queen." The people need to know about me and that I not only have the right to rule, but am the right one to rule.

I had to write the speech myself. Father refused to let anyone with a gift of words to do it. Instead, me. I had to do it.

Father is going to review it before we enter the ballroom. Which, I believe, is a bit late to make changes.

But Father wants the people to see the true me. And I know that he is right. The people won't accept anything less than the truth. Which is funny as they've been lied to about me my whole life.

"Elsa," Father greets me. We meet in the room we're going to stay in for the next hour until we make our appearance to our people.

"Your Highness." I curtsy.

He smiles at me, and for once, it is a genuine smile. And I see just the slightest of emotion: pride.

I almost break down right then and there. But I don't. I hold my back straight, and my shoulders back, and head high.

"Elsa," Father says again. "You look beautiful."

A blush creeps up my cheek. I don't think Father has ever said that to me before. Father is one to keep his emotions to himself. I know why. As king, if he were to show the slightest of emotions that could betray his position, the people could riot. Ruling a kingdom is no easy task. And having your heart on your sleeve only makes it worse.

"Thank you," I say.

"May I see your speech?" he asks.

Carefully, I hand him a piece of folded paper.

The speech is only a page long, but it takes Father a very long time to read it. I fidget as his eyes move across the page.

Finally, he looks up.

And he smiles at me.

"It think it is perfect, Elsa," he says.

"Really?" I blurt, leaning forward. Then, I straighten my posture again.

He lets out a laugh. "Yes, really," he says. "You have done very well." He pauses, and a look of sadness comes over him.

"Father?" I ask. "Is something wrong?"

"No," he says, "no, nothing. I just . . ." He hands me back my speech, and the moment is over. Deflated, I fold the speech back up.

I was so close to having a . . . _moment _with my father. But he had to go and ruin it.

_Don't blame him, _I scold myself. _It's your fault. Not his. Your fault that you can't control your powers. Your fault. Your fault. _

I release a pent-up breath and say in my most polite voice, "Thank you, Father. For having this ball in my honor. For being . . . the greatest father ever."

He smiles a tight smile. "You're welcome, Elsa. It is my pleasure."

But that's not true.

* * *

"Princess Elsa of Arendelle!"

The clapping starts, and I take a deep breath, as the door is opened for me by a servant, and I step out into the light.

I'm almost blinded by the plethora of colors that meet my eyes. There are pinks and greens, blues and purples, reds and oranges and yellows, blacks and whites. There are satin dresses and silk ties and brocade skirts and velvet suits. There are people with brown hair and blonde hair and black hair, blue eyes and brown eyes and golden eyes, dark skin, light skin, skin almost as pale as mine. There are people of every sort and kind here.

It is almost too much to handle. I can feel myself getting light-headed.

I blink a few times and walk to stand beside my father. He gives me an encouraging nod, and I nod back at him.

Father steps forward. "Thank you, people of Arendelle, for being here tonight to celebrate my oldest daughter's eighteenth birthday. And to celebrate our finding the plant that will cure her disease!"

The people shout out and cheer. For my father.

For me.

I can't help it: I smile. I glance over at Anna, who is standing beside Mother, and is waving to the crowd, absolutely beaming.

I am so proud of her. What a person she has grown into.

Glad that I don't have to make my speech until later in the night, I stand by Father while people come up and introduce themselves to us. If I had to make my speech now, I think I would've messed up terribly. I'm still so overwhelmed by everything in this room.

Of the food piled high and higher on the multitude of tables. Of the chandeliers lit with a brilliance of yellows. Of the floor polished to a mirror finish. Of all the people dancing and whirling about and laughing.

I have never seen so much happiness and joy before.

"Elsa," Father says, leaning over to me. "Why don't you go dance for a little while? I will call you when it is time for you to make your speech."

I admit, I was getting tired of trying to remember everyone's names, so a break would be nice.

I don't think I'll dance with anyone, though.

I mingle in the crowd, people coming up to greet me, and I start to get tired of saying "Thank you" over and over and over. But just a little bit. I still get a thrill of getting to meet people.

And surprisingly, nothing has happened yet. The room is still as warm as ever. People aren't slipping on ice or wondering about frost on the walls.

I haven't lost control yet, and the feeling is wonderful. So wonderful.

For the first time in forever, I feel free.

"Princess Elsa!" a voice says behind me, and I turn around.

It's a tall servant with a beard down to his chest. He has large, twinkling brown eyes that seem comforting and nice.

"Would you like some turnovers?" he asks, offering a tray full of desserts.

"Thank you," I say, and I take one.

I wait for him to leave and serve other people, but he doesn't. Awkwardly, I say, "Are you enjoying the party?"

"Very much," he says, eyeing me. "Are _you_?"

"Yes," I say. "Very much."

The servant still doesn't leave.

I don't know what to do. Should I just leave him? Should I walk away quickly? Should I try and stay and make small talk?

Before I can make a decision, I hear another voice.

"Princess Elsa," the voice murmurs.

I turn around to see Ash Frost. I blink. "Hello," I say.

"Are you enjoying this party?" The corner of his mouth lifts in a smile.

"It's . . . nice." I was thinking of a stronger word actually, but I didn't want to sound _too _excited, like I am inside. I don't want to give the Frosts anything that they could glean information from. "How are you liking it?" I ask him.

"I think it's great," he says, loud enough to just be heard above the crowd.

He suddenly stumbles forward and I take a step back.

"Jack!" Ash says, a frustrated tone in his voice.

"Sorry, dear brother," a voice says, and Jack Frost himself steps out from behind his brother, his mouth stretched into a smile.

He turns his gaze onto me, and I almost melt.

Since when did I melt over a boy?

Since never because I actually haven't seen many of them before.

"How are you doing, Princess Elsa?" Jack inquires.

"I'm well, thank you." I start to move away, but Jack grabs my arm, and I swear the temperature drops. I jerk away from him and open my mouth to say something along the lines of "How dare you!" when he looks at me. Just looks at me.

And I don't say anything at all.

"Hey," he says, holding his hands up, still staring at me straight in the eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you, okay? I just want to dance."

"Dance?" I repeat.

"You know, like holding each other and moving around in time to the music?" He demonstrates by swaying side-to-side with a mock dreamy look on his face.

I almost laugh. "I know what dancing is."

"Great!" he says. He reaches out to grab my arm again, but I move out of his reach.

"I don't dance," I say.

"Seriously?" He sounds whiny, but I know it's just an act. He's trying to get on my good side.

I don't know if I even have a good side.

Ash stares at both of us, his arms folded across his chest, a surly look on his face. "Jack," he says, his voice patient like he has done this a thousand times before, "don't make her do something she doesn't want to."

Ash's voice is dismissive. Almost like he thinks I don't have the ability to dance. That I'm too weak.

"It's not that I _can't _dance," I blurt out, "it's that I don't want to."

Jack looks hurt. "Why not?" he asks. "Is it me?"

"No . . . ," I say, "I just don't dance. I don't like it."

I can't be touched.

Jack's disappointed, I can tell. I want to tell him that I'd love to dance with him — even though he's possibly a spy. I want to tell him I'd love to have someone's arms around me, just a bit of warmth.

But I don't. I don't even say good-bye as I turn around and start to move away from the two brothers.

* * *

**Author's Note: So what did you think? Good so far? I hope so! I'm pretty proud of this story, so . . . :P As always, thank you for reading!**

**- J. Dom**


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Conceal, Don't Feel

* * *

"Elsa."

I look up to see my father's large form in front of me.

"It's time for your speech," he says.

"Already?" I gulp.

I don't feel as confident now.

"The sun is setting," he says. "It is time."

I follow Father up to the front of the room. The crowd starts to quiet as they see us both walking up to where Mother and Anna are already stationed.

"People of Arendelle," Father starts, "your future queen, Princess Elsa!"

The crowd bursts into clapping, and I spot Ash and Jack. Ash is standing, still with his hands folded over his chest, but Jack is clapping hard and grinning.

A servant steps forward and hands me my note cards and I take them, shuffling the small papers in my hand, before looking out over the crowd.

"People of Arendelle," I say. "I thank you for coming tonight. It is my pleasure to have you all in my home, to see you, to meet you, and as princess and future queen, to serve you." The people cheer. I breathe in, breathe out.

"As you know, my disease has kept me from knowing all of you. I regret this, but it is with great joy that I announce that I am now well and ready to serve you with all my might. You are my priority right now, and, when I am queen, you will still be my priority. To be your princess is an honor." I bow my head. "People of Arendelle, now that I am well, I hope to continually be able to work for your every need. I plan to be the person you all want me to be: selfless, kind, loyal, brave, and strong."

Should the people be cheering? Or should they be silent like this? I don't know, I don't know.

I continue, "Fear is an ever-present monster that will always exist in our lives. I know, because I have fought it — but, at times, I have also overcome it. I have defeated it because I have hope."

Jack whoops, and I realize I've been staring at him a lot through this speech. He is the only one to cheer, though. The rest of the people remain silent.

I start to panic. Surely this isn't how it's supposed to go. Surely I'm supposed to get some kind of response from the people, and not just Jack.

I blink rapidly several times, and try to keep my hands from shaking and my knees from giving way. The paper in my hand is getting cold.

"Hope will be eternal. For as long as we are alive, fear is. But for as long as we are alive, hope is, too. And what can defeat fear but hope?"

The room gets colder, and I notice some people hugging themselves or nearing the fire. I stop talking, and for a moment, it's just me and my wild thoughts and the silent crowd.

I drop the papers and they make no sound when they hit the floor, but I feel like I can hear them: shush, shush, shush. But the noise is coming from above. I look up, and realize ice is starting to cover the ceiling.

Oh no, oh no, oh no.

_Conceal it, Elsa! Don't feel it. Don't let them in. Don't let them know. Conceal it, don't feel it. Don't let them in. Don't let them know. _Get it under control_. _

The people all stare at me expectantly, wanting me to finish my speech, or maybe not. Maybe they are all disgusted by me and my stupid, worthless speech. Maybe they wish I would just keel over and die and that Anna, the oh-so-normal one that people love, would take over.

"Elsa," Father says behind me, very quietly. I look up at him. He smiles at me, and nods, silently saying, _You can do it. _

I look out into the crowd, and I see Jack and Ash, too. Ash is looking at me, but this time, there is no resentment or anger or any negative look in his face. It's almost . . . awe. And Jack . . . Jack is smiling at me, and, like my father, he's saying, _You can do it. _

These things are what help me finish the last few words of my speech. The words I had memorized a long time ago.

"I know hope is strongest when we build each other up, when we use it as a foundation, a building block. So this is what I ask you: If you have hope, believe in it, hold onto it, and share it with others.

"I will do my best to give hope with the world. For you and with you. Together, we can do anything."

My hands slowly lower to my sides, and my cheeks start to burn.

There is no response from the crowd.

Then the cheering starts.

* * *

**Author's Note: You get a nice big update today - three chapters! Yay! Again, I'd like to say thank you for reading this far! If you're one of those people sticking with this story, THANK YOU SO MUCH! (Also, it wouldn't hurt if you could share this story with some people . . . I'm trying to get a bit more recognition . . . -shameless self-promotion- Thanks!)**

**- J. Dom**


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

I Know It's Totally Crazy

* * *

"You did wonderfully, Elsa," Mother says. She holds out her hands to hug me, but I back away.

I know I hurt her inside by doing this, but at least I am not hurting her on the outside.

Mother conceals her disappointment, though. Instead, she says, "I saw you talking to two handsome boys. What do you think about that?"

I know she is insinuating something romantic about it. "Mother," I say, "they're servants. Father would never approve.

"Oh, Elsa," Mother says. "Do you think either your father or I really care about whether you marry into royalty or not? Whomever you love — that's who you should be with."

I have never known my parents' opinion on this as the subject of marriage has never come up with me. Of course, at my age, it should've. In Arendelle, when you're eighteen, you're officially marriageable. I could be married tomorrow.

But, because of my powers, we've never discussed marriage. How would it feel like to have a bond so intimate as marriage, to have someone love _me_, and then to hurt them? Or worse, kill them?

I can't let that happen.

Which is why Father, Mother, and I all know that I will never get married.

Unless it's someone I can't hurt.

And I can't imagine someone like that coming up in my life.

I've resolved myself to this sad existence, but sometimes, I still hope and wonder if someone will ever come along. Someone who can't be hurt by my powers. Or maybe someone who can take away my powers. Or someone who could . . .

_Stop being so wishy-washy, Elsa. It will never happen. _

But in my heart, I still feel some hope.

* * *

"Hey, Princess."

I have become accustomed to that voice. It has played around in my mind for the last few days.

Jack's voice.

I look up from reading in the library to see him standing in front of me, smiling as usual, a book in his hands.

"What are you reading?" he asks me.

"You know," I say, "it isn't exactly proper to inquire about a princess's reading habits."

His smile widens. "From where I come from," he says, "we don't have kings and queens and princesses. Everyone is equal."

I've known of Inmeracia's culture, but it's weird for me to have a person from that country standing right in front of me and expressing their odd ways.

"So," Jack prompts, "what are you reading?"

I hold the book cover up for him to see.

"'A History of Arctic Lands,'" he reads. "Fascinating."

"What are you reading?" I ask.

He holds up his book's cover, and I see: _Idiosyncrasies of Inmeracians_.

"Look," he says, "an Arendellian wrote this. I had no idea you people thought so highly of us."

I blush. I've read that book before, and that's where I actually got most of my knowledge of Inmeracians. "You cannot judge me for something someone else wrote," I say delicately.

"You're right," he says, and he lays the book down on the table, and sits down beside me. "I can't. That would be unfair."

"Terribly," I agree.

He laughs. I don't know if it's at me, or just for the sake of laughing. He seems to like to smile and laugh and generally be happy.

I want to be that way, but I just can't find any happiness in my life.

I know, that sounds so pessimistic.

But I guess that's just who I am.

"So, Jack Frost," I say. "Where is your brother?"

"He's working," Jack says. "Technically, I should be, too. I was supposed to deliver this book back to the library an hour ago, but I got caught up in reading it."

"Do you often do odd jobs? Instead of just cleaning?"

"All the time," he says. "I can't bear just doing the same thing over and over again."

"I know what you mean," I say. I think of just today when once again, I practiced holding the goblet and not freezing it. I've made just a bit more progress. Just a bit. I know my parents are getting weary of me, weary of trying over and over again. Since I'm beginning to be more exposed, it's crucial I learn my power. Soon.

"So, Princess Elsa of Arendelle," Jack says, "what do you like to do for fun?"

"For fun?" I echo.

"You know, stuff you do just to get a laugh out of it. Just for yourself."

"I don't know," I say. "I've never really done much for fun."

"Ever?"

"Well, I used to play in the snow with my sister. . . ."

"That's a start." He grins. "There's no snow right now, but the leaves are falling. We could go play in those?"

"How old are you?" I ask him.

"Eighteen," he answers.

"And you want to go play in leaves."

"That's right."

I let out a laugh. "Jack Frost, you are the most interesting boy I've ever met." And quite possibly a spy, but whatever. I'm just enjoying spending time with this boy.

"Well, Elsa," he says, "you're pretty interesting yourself."

That might verge on sounding slightly creepy, but I know he doesn't mean it that way.

And in that moment, I realize something.

Jack isn't a spy.

He can't be.

I can read it in his eyes, see it in his face, the way he moves, the way he talks. Everything he has done up until now has been to benefit me, not himself. He's selfless, and I know, right now, that if he could, he would never, ever hurt me.

* * *

"What's it like living in Inmeracia?" I ask, genuinely curious.

Jack pauses from scrubbing a vase situated on a table. The vase is huge, and I have to admit that I've never noticed it before. The flowers winding up the sides of the vase speaks of Arendelle's trademark sign, a very unique design of petals and vines and flowers in full bloom.

"It was very different than here," he says. "There was a bit more . . . modern. You guys still live in the past here." He winks at me. "Not that it's a bad thing. I kind of like here better. Inmeracians were all about being individual, and I like that, but here . . . here there's not so much pressure."

I've always known that Jack is an attention-seeker, and now it makes sense. He would be able to stand out here more than in Inmeracia where everyone is trying to be seen.

Jack finishes scrubbing the vase, and leans back against the table, and rubs sweat from his hands onto his pants. I wrinkle my nose. I don't think I've ever been sweaty in my life. I am too enveloped in the cold.

"You'd be surprised at how much sweat you gain just by rubbing a vase," Jack says, and he shoots me a grin.

"The only thing I've ever cleaned is my room," I say, shaking my head and grinning, too.

Jack frowns. "Don't you have servants to do that?"

Oops. I'd slipped. "I . . . prefer my room to be private," I amend. "So I do it myself. It's annoying to have servants constantly in everything you have."

"I can get that," he says, nodding. He lays his rag on the table, and opens wide his arms. I can see the sweat racing down his skin. "Do you want a hug?" he asks, grinning again.

I back away. "No, thank you." I tried to make my tone funny, but it must come out strained, because his smile disappears.

"I was just joking," he says, his arms falling to his sides. "Do you have something with germs?"

I decide to go along with it. "I don't like to be touched . . . germs freak me out."

"Okay," he says. "I'll respect that. I am pretty germy. If I wasn't me, I'd probably freak myself out with how stinky and gross I am."

I laugh, and Jack starts smiling again. As I look at him, I see something in his eyes: happiness, gratefulness, and something almost like awe. . . .

* * *

**Author's Note: Is it getting better yet? Feel like there aren't enough stakes? Don't worry, next chapter ups them up a bit! ;) Yet again, thanks for reading!**

**- J. Dom**


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I Won't Be Alone

* * *

"Jack," I say, "wait up!"

"You would be faster if you had longer legs," he says, moving quickly in front of me. We race down the halls as he leads me who-knows-where.

"Excuse me, it's not my fault my legs didn't grow as long as yours."

"It's not," he says, glancing back at me. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. Your legs are perfect just the size they are."

Normally, I would blush, but I've gotten used to Jack's jokes and the way he likes to flirt with me.

"I'm sorry I can't say the same thing about you," I tell him. "But your legs are just unnaturally long."

"Hey," he says, "I'm not that tall. Ash is taller than me."

"By like an inch!" I say. "You're both unnaturally tall."

"Well, don't girls like tall men?"

"I'm not quite sure if you count as a man." I wrinkle my nose and he laughs.

"C'mon," he says, "we're almost there."

"Where are we going? What are we doing?" I'd already asked the question, but Jack has refused to answer. I know now will be no different.

"Hang on," he says, "you'll see soon enough."

We round the corner, and Jack finally stops. I crouch, panting, my hands on my legs.

"Do you have to move so fast?" I ask.

"I like fast," he says. "Anyway, here we are."

I look up to see a large door and the sound of people bustling inside.

Looking at Jack in surprise, I say, "You brought me to the kitchens?"

Yes, I've never been to the kitchens. It sounds rather horrible, but I've never had the need to, and why endanger people when I don't even need to see them?

"There's someone I want you to meet," he says. He opens the doors and we step in.

Noise floods over me in a deluge of voices talking, and pots and pans banging, and food simmering. People run all around, getting their individual work done. Chaos itself is surely here. The smells are like heaven itself. Fresh bread, steak cooking, blueberry pie, and oh . . . _chocolate_.

Jack grins at my face. "Do you like it?" he asks.

"This is wonderful!" I take a moment more to sniff in all the great scents before saying, "Now, who did you want me to meet?"

"Just a minute," he says, "let me go get her."

While Jack leaves my side, people start to notice me.

Someone comes up to me, a thin-faced woman with a chef's hat on. "Princess Elsa!" she exclaims. "An honor to have you here! Is there anything I can get you?"

I'm about to say no, when another waft of chocolate drifts over. "Actually . . . ," I say, "could I have some of that wonderful-smelling chocolate? And some water, please?" I'm quite thirsty after running all the way here.

The cook beams, her brown eyes shining. "Absolutely! Anything for the princess and future queen of Arendelle!"

Jack returns with a small girl by his side. She looks to be about twelve or thirteen.

"Elsa," he says, "this is Asta. My sister."

"You have a sister?" I gape at the girl. "Why have you never told me?"

The girl looks a lot like Jack with brown hair and eyes. She's cute in a small girlish way, but I bet she'll be beautiful as she gets older.

She curtsies. "Your Highness, it's an honor to meet you."

"Please," I say, "there's no need to curtsy. And call me Elsa. Since your brother does, you should, too."

The girl smiles, and it's a dazzling smile. "Jack has told me so much about you," she says. "It's great to finally be able to meet you."

I smile.

"I didn't tell her anything about you, Asta," Jack says, "because I wanted you to be a surprise."

"Why?" I ask. "Why a surprise?"

"Why not?" He shrugs. "Surprises are fun. Especially for you. Asta told me that you'd never been to the kitchens before . . . and she works there . . . so I figured we could pay her and the kitchens a visit."

I'm surprised at his thoughtfulness in the matter. "Thank you," I say. "This is wonderful."

It's still so hot in the kitchens. My powers have no effect here, it seems.

Am I finally gaining control?

Or maybe . . . maybe it is Jack who helps me keep my powers under control. Maybe he distracts me with his quick smile and easy laugh and he is the reason I haven't had an incident since the ball.

Maybe he is the one.

The thought enters my head without being called for. I immediately want to take it back: _Don't think like that, Elsa. You can never marry or fall in love. You'll only hurt those around you. _

But how I long to have someone hold me in their arms, look me in the eyes, tell me they love me.

I want that so badly. Is it so wrong to hope that Jack might be the one? That he could help get my powers fully under control? That he might be the one I could never hurt?

"Elsa?" Jack interrupts my thoughts. "Are you okay? You just went pale. . . ."

"I'm fine," I say. "I just . . ."

Asta speaks up. "I know what you're feeling," she says.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"You feel alone," Asta says. "I know because I, too, have felt that before. As the only girl in our family, it's not hard."

I look to Jack, but he doesn't look surprised. Asta must've told him this before. They must have a close relationship. Like Anna and I used to have.

"How did you know that?" I whisper over the clangs of the kitchen noise.

"I know," Asta says, "because I've seen the expression on your face before. Many, many times. But don't worry. You don't have to be alone anymore. We're here for you."

_We're here for you. _

For the first time, I know that's true.

The cook who I'd spoken to earlier appears by my side. "I'm sorry for the wait, Princess," she says, "but here are your snacks."

She hands me a cup of water and a bar of chocolate. I breathe in the heavenly smell and smile.

I take a bite of the chocolate, and the taste overwhelms my taste buds. I could just melt into a pile of mush right now. It's not like I don't eat chocolate very often. It's just that chocolate is so amazing, every time it feels like I'm trying it for the first time.

I lift the cup up to my lips and take a sip to wash down the chocolate sticking to the top of my mouth.

I hear Asta shout, "No! Don't drink that!"

The water is cool, but there's something in it . . . something sour, something vile and bitter, and —

I fall to the ground, the world going black.

* * *

_End of Part 1_

* * *

**Author's Note: Wow! Part 1's already over! I'm not sure when I'll post the beginning of Part 2 - I might just make you guys wait so I can laugh behind the screen (MUAHAHAHA). ;D Don't worry, though, I'm not that mean. Thanks for reading!**

**- J. Dom**


	11. Part 2 — Chapter 10

_Part 2 — Together (Love is an Open Door)_

* * *

Chapter 10

With You

* * *

"Elsa, you've been asleep for days."

"Elsa, I know you can hear me."

"Elsa, please wake up."

"Elsa, wake up."

"Elsa, please."

"Elsa. . . ."

Slowly, my conscious rises to the surface, and I'm aware of someone touching my hand. Holding my hand. I can feel their skin on mine. My glove is no longer there. They're touching me. They took off my glove. They're touching me. I could've hurt them. Oh, did I hurt them?

I jerk my hand away from whoever's touching it.

"Elsa!"

It's my mother's voice.

I open my eyes.

"Elsa!" my mother nearly screams. She starts to throw her arms around me, but I put my hands up to stop her.

"Mother," I quietly remind her.

She draws back, tears streaking her face.

"How do you feel?" she asks.

"I feel . . . fine, I guess. What happened?"

I can remember nothing other than drinking the water and . . . oh.

I was poisoned.

"You were poisoned," Mother babbles. "Someone took an attempt on your life. Oh, Elsa, we were so worried. You almost died. If you had drank any more, you would've!"

I frown. "I guess the person who poisoned me didn't put enough poison in there."

"The doctor was surprised," Mother says. "Even though you just drank a small dosage, you should've died."

I should've died.

I glance over the room. Looking at the white walls and white sheets and white furniture. I'm in the hospital, of course. In the corner of the room stands piles of flowers and wrapped chocolates and all sorts of gifts.

Mother catches me glancing at them and says, "Those are from the people. They love you, Elsa."

No, they don't. How can they love someone they don't know?

"Mother," I say, straightening up in my bed. "Who do you think tried to poison me? To kill me?"

"We've been investigating that." Mother chews on her lip, an action of nervousness I've never seen on her before. "The cook who gave you the poison has disappeared. She's the prime suspect right now."

Great. She could still be out there, somewhere, waiting for her opportunity.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"A week," she says. "Your friends have been in and out of here several times. They're worried about you."

"My friends?"

"The Frosts. Jack and Ash and Asta. The new servants we hired on about a month ago."

"I know who they are," I say. "I'm just . . . we're not friends."

Mother frowns. "They seem quite concerned about you."

"I'm going to be their future queen," I say, "it's what they're supposed to do."

Mother doesn't look convinced but she lets it drop.

I struggle to get up out of bed.

"Careful," Mother says. "You're very weak. You don't want to hurt yourself."

"I feel fine," I say, and I swing my legs over the bed, and stand up.

Immediately, a bout of dizziness and a headache pours over me. I fall back onto the bed.

"Elsa!" Mother cries. "Are you all right?"

I pant out, "I'm fine. Just a bit weak." I lay my head back down on the pillow and catch my breath, waiting for the dizziness to go away. "You're right. I guess I should take it slower."

"You should," Mother says. "You really need to be concerned about yourself sometimes. Not just others."

I feel like myself is all I'm ever concerned about.

"How is Father?" I ask. "Anna? And you, of course?"

"We're all just very worried about you," Mother says. "I should probably let them and the doctor know you're awake. Are you okay being by yourself?"

"I'm fine," I say, "as long as I don't get up."

"Shout if you need anything," she says. "There's a guard outside." Before I can protest, she pats me on the arm, and walks out of the room.

I look around the room once more and notice my gloves lying on the table. I reach over and grab them, pulling the familiar worn fabric onto my hands. I sigh, feeling safe once more.

* * *

"Elsa!" Anna rushes into the room with my parents. She looks like she's been crying. "I was so worried about you — I mean, we all were, of course! I never thought — why would someone poison you? Well, I mean, I know why, but it just seems so unreal!"

"It does," I say.

She reaches forward to touch me, but hesitates and decides against it. I'm glad she does.

Father looks relieved to see the color coming back into my cheeks. He strides over, and lays his hand on the table beside me for support.

"How are you, Elsa?" he asks.

"I'm fine, Father," I say. "I can't really stand up yet . . . but I feel fine while I'm lying down."

"That is good," he says. There's a weary look on his face, and I know it must be from trying to found out who poisoned the water. Who tried to kill me.

"Do you have any news?" I ask. "On who did it?"

"We've investigated all of the kitchen staff," he says. "At first, your friend Asta Frost was the main suspect."

"What?" I ask, shocked. I can't imagine anyone as sweet as Asta trying to poison someone.

"She knew you were coming," Father explains, "she could've easily paid someone off to give you that water."

"She didn't even know if I was going to get water!"

"Well, she came out of the interrogation clean," Father says, "so you needn't worry about it."

I relax a bit. That's right. Mother said she'd been visiting me. They wouldn't have let her do that unless they had determined she was innocent.

"So what else?" I ask. "Do you have any information on the cook?"

Father shakes his head, frustrated. "Nothing," he says. "She was clever."

I'm disappointed — and scared. Whoever did that hasn't been caught yet. They're still out there. They could try to kill me again.

Then a thought enters my mind: Maybe I should die anyway. I could free my family and my country from my powers. They wouldn't have to worry about me anymore. Anna could take my place. She'd be a good queen, as friendly and nice as she is.

And, maybe, I want to die, too.

I've never considered death that much before. Sure, sometimes thoughts of dying would occur to me, but I would never dwell on it.

But what if I want to die?

What if I want to put an end to this miserable life?

But that would mean leaving Father, and Mother, and Anna. And Jack and Asta. And Ash. I add him on just because I feel sorry for him. He must have a lot of pressure on him, being the oldest. It's unfair of me to not think of him.

"I'm sorry, Father," I whisper.

"It's not your fault, Elsa," he says.

Everything is unfair.

* * *

A week later, and I'm up and walking. I still get dizzy sometimes, but that, too, is fading. Thrilled to be able to walk on my own again, I traverse the palace, looking for something to do, but staying away from people.

I feel unhinged since the attack on my life. Like something inside me has snapped. Something dangerous.

What if someone tries to kill Father or Mother? Or Anna? Or me again? And why did they attack me specifically? I'm the heir, yes, but then they'd have to kill Anna, too. And what would they get out of it?

The questions whirl around in my mind, never ending.

A day after I get cleared from the hospital, Jack, Ash, and Asta pay me a visit.

"Elsa!" Asta cries when she sees me. She runs up to me and tries to hug me, but I stop her just in time. She looks hurt that I did this, but I don't apologize. I'm tired of that.

"Asta," I say, "are you okay? I heard you were questioned. I'm sorry they did that to you."

"It's fine," she says. "I understand why they did it."

Jack nears me and doesn't touch me — since I've expressed to him my desire of not being touched — but even his nearness makes me uncomfortable.

"Are you okay, Elsa?" he asks me quietly, staring into my eyes.

I stare back. "I'm fine," I say.

"I shouldn't think so," he says. "You were just seriously poisoned."

"I'm fine," I repeat. "I'm not weak, you know."

He looks taken aback. "I know."

"Then stop treating me like I'm fragile," I snap.

Asta takes in a breath.

"I'm sorry," I say after a few moments. "I just . . . you're right. I'm not fine. This is stressful to me. I've never . . . I mean . . . this hasn't exactly been . . . nice for me. . . ."

"We know," Asta says, "we understand."

I feel someone glaring at me, and I look up to see Ash, a scornful look on his face. I wonder why he hates me so.

Jack notices Ash glaring at me and punches his brother in the shoulder. "Stop it," he mutters. "It's not her fault."

What's not my fault? That I got poisoned and was almost killed? Yeah, that's not exactly my fault.

I don't say anything to Jack's words.

But Ash does.

He takes his brother's arm and leads him a few steps away, almost out of earshot. Almost.

"She's dangerous," Ash says. "Can't you see?"

"Elsa's not dangerous," Jack says. "Just because . . . she's different doesn't mean she's dangerous."

Different. Do they know? Do they know about me?

"We shouldn't be hanging around her," Ash says. "It'll only draw attention to us. We can't afford that, and we can't afford to let anyone get close to us."

It almost sounds like he's in the same position as I am. I can't have attention drawn to me. I can't let anyone get close to me.

For the first time, I feel like I actually understand Ash. There's clearly more to him than meets the eye.

"Ash," Jack says, "I'm tired of living this way! I'm tired of always being alone! I just want to . . . get close to someone I like."

Wait a minute.

_Did I hear that right?_

_Did Jack just say he liked me?_

_Does someone actually like me? _

_You must've heard wrong, Elsa. _

_You had to have heard wrong. _

_No one could ever like you. _

But no, I didn't hear wrong.

Jack glances at me and I stare at him. He licks his lips, and says, "I like Elsa, okay, Ash? Can't we just have one friend? Can't we just be with someone for once in our lives?"

Ash hesitates. Then he says, "Okay. Just this once. But if something happens . . . we leave immediately."

I want to ask what's wrong with them, what they're hiding, but I don't. I know what it's like to have secrets, and I know what it's like to have someone pry into those. It's uncomfortable and it makes you angry and sad that you can't just tell them what's wrong. What you're feeling. What you're having to go through.

So I don't ask. Instead I just say, "Jack . . . do you really like me?"

Jack walks up to me, reaches out to touch me, but thinks better of it. He says, "Yeah, I do." He has this shy look on his face that I find adorable. He pauses. "Do you — do you like me?"

I ponder this, and I can see Jack's face falling the longer I take to think.

I remember the first time I saw Jack. With his brown hair falling over his eyes, and the way he swept the floor almost like he was dancing. I remember all the jokes he makes and the flirting he did. I remember how he comforted me while I was making my speech, and how he made me forget about my pitiful life.

Do I like Jack?

I say, "Yes, Jack. I do."

* * *

**Author's Note: So I didn't make you wait too long, did I? Now you can't complain. :D Anyways, what did you think of this chapter? I hope you're still liking this story. Thanks for reading!**

**- J. Dom**


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

I've Been Waiting My Whole Life

* * *

"So what's on the agenda today?" Jack asks me.

I run my hands through my hair. "I was thinking . . . about a picnic."

"A picnic?" Ash asks.

"A picnic!" Asta says, clapping her hands together.

"You see," I say, "I haven't ever really been out of the castle that much, and I thought a picnic would be nice and secluded. We can go behind the castle — there's a nice hill that's really beautiful in the fall. All the trees turn red and orange and gold and blanket the whole ground. At least" — I bite my lip — "that's how it used to be. I haven't exactly been there in about eleven years."

Jack whistles. "So we're maybe going to this beautiful place that used to be beautiful eleven years ago?"

I nod. "It will be fun anyway," I say, "and even if the place has been . . . disturbed, we can always have the picnic inside."

"It's not a picnic if it's inside," Ash says.

I shoot him a glare and he glares back at me. The two of us have taken to doing such things when we're around each other, and Asta and Jack have learned to ignore it.

The four of us have been hanging around each other quite a bit, actually. I never knew what it was like to have friends, but now that I do . . . it's amazing. I can't imagine not having friends now.

Sure, Jack is a bit more than a friend and Ash is a little less than a friend, but still. The feeling I have enveloping me is a wonderful, wonderful feeling. Foreign and new, but oh-so-good.

"We need to get some food from the kitchen, of course," I say. "And some clothes we can get dirty. It just rained, so the ground might be a little wet. . . ."

"This probably isn't the best time to go out for a picnic then," Ash says.

I cluck my tongue. "Think positive, Ash. This will be fun."

I used to be a pessimist, but ever since I've gotten my new friends, I've been thinking a lot more positive. It's funny what a few people can do in your life. They can hate you, love you, feel sorry for you, feel happy for you, comfort you, mock you, laugh at you, or laugh with you.

We plan to have our little picnic later in the day around lunchtime. Asta is assigned to get some food from the kitchen, while I get the boys and her some new clothes. While all of their clothes can get dirty, none of them are quite right for a picnic. None of them are fun, play clothes. I doubt they've had many of those.

I don't know much about the Frosts, but I know they're orphans, their parents having died eight years ago. I know that even though they're working for royalty, they still have a hard time with money. I know that Ash is the oldest, then Jack, then Asta. I know that Ash doesn't talk much, Jack too much, and Asta in the middle.

Today, I hope to change my minimal amount of knowledge about them, and get something out of them. Not their secrets; I wouldn't dare try to fish those out of them. But facts. Favorite color. Favorite hobby. Things like that. Surely that can't harm anything?

Really, how much can your favorite color say about you?

_A lot, _a voice says in my head. I push it away.

After getting everything ready, we head out of the castle. I breathe in the fresh air. I haven't been outside in a long time. Not since the ball, in fact. And certainly not since I was almost assassinated. Father and Mother have just started to let me out of their sight.

It feels so, so good to be outside again. To be surrounded by all the smells and sights and noises and feelings.

We hike up a long hill until we reach the place I was talking about. True to my word, it's gorgeous.

The autumn leaves gently float to the ground, covering it in a carpet of perfect leaves. The sun is high in the air, highlighting the area with its rays, and a single tree provides shade and protection from it.

"Wow!" Asta says. "This is perfect!" She starts to cough.

"Asta!" Jack and Ash immediately step forward, as their sister goes pale.

I put down my basket of food, and rush to her side.

"Asta," I say, "what's wrong?"

"N-nothing," she coughs out. "Just a cold. Probably."

I hope it is only that. It is that time of year to have sickness. That must be what Asta has.

After Asta's coughing bout is over, we set up our little picnic, laying a blanket onto the ground, and preparing the food. Actually, Asta and I do most of that while the boys lazily point out clouds to themselves, trying to guess what they best represent. I wonder if this is some weird hobby of Inmeracians.

"Come eat," I call to the two boys once Asta and I are finished.

The array of food we have are sandwiches and fruit and fresh bread. It's simple food, but perfect picnic food. And Father and Mother have had them all tested to make sure they weren't poisoned. They're doing that with all of the royal family's food. I feel bad for the poor servant who has to taste the food and drinks.

After we've eaten our fill, we lie across the ground and stare up at the clouds flitting across the sky.

For several minutes, we're just silent, enjoying the cool weather, probably the last nice day we'll get before winter.

Finally, I break the silence with, "What do you dream about?"

"What do you mean?" Jack asks, turning onto his side to face me.

"What do you hope to accomplish in life?" I ask. "What do you hope people know about you? Just . . . what are your dreams?"

We're silent again.

Then Asta speaks up, "I wish I was popular," she says. "Well, not like famous or anything, not like a princess like you, Elsa. Just . . . I wish people knew about me and liked me and confided in me like a friend. I guess . . . I want to be trusted."

Asta, who is the most trustworthy person I've ever met, wants to be trusted. I wonder why. What in her life has made her dream that?

Jack speaks up with, "I hope people know me because of the things I've done. I want them to admire me, look up to me. To think, 'Wow, he's really unique and cool, I want to be like him someday.'"

I can see that in Jack. If anything, he craves attention. But he doesn't usually get it, it seems, from what I'd overheard of his conversation with Ash.

"I think . . . ," I say, "I want to be loved. More than anything in my life."

"Don't we all want that?" Asta says.

"Yeah, maybe," I say.

Jack looks me in the eye. "You are loved, Elsa," he says.

I don't know if he means by my family or him or both.

I brush his comment away and try not to think about it.

"What about you, Ash?" Asta asks her brother who has been quiet up until now.

"I don't know," he says. "I guess I just want to be able to relax and not worry and not be worn down by all the things I have to do and be careful of. I just want to be . . . me."

He stops abruptly, and turns his face away from us. I suspect this is the most he's said about himself in a long time. What prompted him to speak so openly?

I am glad he did, though. It makes him more relatable in a way. To know that he's human, too. Just like the rest of us.

A sickening thought occurs to me. What if I'm not human? I've never met anyone with powers like mine, or anyone with powers for that matter. What if something in me isn't right? Makes me alien?

_Don't think of those things. Think positive. _

I stare around at my friends, and I feel like even though we haven't talked a bunch, I know them on a more personal level now.

Just asking someone their dreams can do that.

I want to ask them about their pasts. How their parents died. How Ash got put in charge. Why they came to Arendelle.

But I don't.

If I did that, they would ask about me. Why I'm so secluded, about my fake disease, and maybe, just maybe, they could get close enough to me that I'd reveal my greatest secret to them.

Because right now, I have the insane urge to tell them everything about me. Everything that makes me who I am.

Everything that I am is about to spill from my mouth.

* * *

**Author's Note: And here's Chapter 11! So, what do you think? Still going strong? I hope so. Thanks for reading, once again, and you all are awesome!**

**- J. Dom**


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Doors In My Face

* * *

I didn't tell the Frosts about me. Even though I wanted to so badly, so I could lift this terrible burden off my shoulders, I didn't.

I can't.

It's been so ingrained in me my whole life that I can tell no one — not even my own sister — that I just couldn't.

I. Just. Couldn't.

After we talked about our dreams, we wrapped our picnic up pretty quick. It seemed like all of us felt exposed, raw, naked, even though we only said a few sentences each.

We are all, it seems, vulnerable, all having our weak spots, all not as strong as we pretend.

Jack approaches me later that night outside my bedroom, a wistful look on his face. "I really enjoyed today," he says.

"Me, too," I say.

Hesitantly, he reaches out and pushes a loose piece of hair behind my ear. I freeze.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles. "I know . . . you have a thing with germs."

"Actually," I say, without thinking, "I don't think I mind that as much anymore."

A smile lifts the corners of his mouth. "So I don't freak you out?"

Carefully, I place my hand on his arm, just touching ever so lightly. "Not anymore," I say.

"Jack."

I pull my hand away, and Jack and I turn to see Ash, who is clearly angry. His mouth is thinned into a straight line, and a wrinkle creases his brow.

"You should be sleeping," Ash says to Jack, like he's his dad.

Jack smiles at me once more, and looks like he'd rather spend the night with me, but complies to Ash's wishes.

"Good-bye, Elsa," he whispers, and he reaches out to touch my cheek. Then he turns the corner and is gone.

I don't think I breathe until his footsteps are out of earshot.

Shaking myself, I'm about to enter my room, when I see that Ash hasn't left with Jack. My hand leaves the doorknob and I lean against the door for support.

"What do you want?" I ask wearily.

"We shouldn't be here," he says. "With you."

I don't say anything.

"You're a danger to all of us. You don't know . . . what all of us have been through. You don't know what _I've _been through, and your ignorance will only put us in danger."

"What are you saying?"

He crosses his arms. "I've seen the way you look at Jack," he spits out. "I know what you feel for him. And I know what he feels for you. If I ever see the slightest hint that you will hurt him, or Asta, I won't hesitate to end that."

I bark out a laugh. "You can't hurt me." I've never said those words, but I know they're true. I may not be able to control my powers fully, but I know more than anything that I can control them very well in the midst of danger.

Ash glares at me, but this time it isn't just the scornful look I'm used to. This . . . I know what it is. It is something I am so, so familiar with: fear.

Ash is fearful of me, but he hides it well. The only reason I am able to see his emotions are because I, too, feel them, and I, too, know how hard it is to conceal them.

"You'd be surprised at what I can do," he says, and he turns on his heel and leaves me.

* * *

"Princess Elsa," a servant says outside of my room. "The king and queen have called you to their quarters. They request you heed this message immediately."

I raise my head up from my pillow and blink. My cheeks feel dry and encrusted from the tears I'd cried last night after our picnic.

"Be there in a minute," I say, which probably isn't a proper response, but I don't really care.

I get up from my bed, and quickly wash my face and get dressed. Why have Mother and Father summoned me so late at night?

I'm accompanied by the servant who woke me up, and together we both walk to my parents' room.

I knock on the door once we reach their quarters.

"Come in," my mother's voice says.

I open the door and curtsy to my parents.

"There is no need for that," Father says impatiently. "Why have you not told us, Elsa?"

"Told you what?" I'm confused.

"About your relationship with the Frosts," Father says.

"I thought you knew about that," I say.

"We thought we did, too," he says.

"What do you mean? I haven't been hiding anything. Father —"

"I have had several reports saying that you have been participating in illegal events." Father lifts up a piece of paper that some of the ink has bled through. I try to read through it, but I can't decipher the words. "You have been," Father starts, shooting me a small glare, "flaunting your right as queen, participating in inappropriate behavior with these boys — such as promising them gold, and bribing them to commit illegal acts — and, overall, creating a very bad image for yourself as future queen."

"No!" I protest. "I haven't been doing any of that! Who told you that? How can you believe I'd do that?"

"Elsa," Mother says, "calm down. We don't believe you did any of this, but there is evidence that points to such behavior."

"Like what?" My voice is challenging, which I know Father won't like.

"You have been suppressed most of your life," Father says, "and now that you have freedom, it's only natural that you abuse it. Elsa, I know up until now you haven't really . . . had much in your life, so to speak. You haven't had friends or parties or been exposed much to the world around you. Like I said, it's natural that you should try and experience these things for yourself — without telling your parents."

"But I haven't done any of those things!" I say. "I promise. Please, believe me."

"We're only worried about you," Mother says. "We want what is best for you."

"I'm not flaunting my right as queen," I say, "I'm not having inappropriate behavior with boys, and I would never create a worse image of myself than you have for me!"

Whoops. I probably shouldn't have said that.

Father's face turns red. "Do not speak to me like that, Elsa," he says. He moves forward to tower over me and I shrink back. "I have very reliable sources in this matter, and lying to me will not improve your chances of not being punished."

"I'm not lying," I whisper, and I can feel tears leaking out of the corners of my eyes. "Please, Father, Mother, I'm not lying. I would never do this to you. Please, believe me."

Mother looks like she might believe me, but Father's face hardens.

"Pleading and begging will do you no good, either," he says. "Princess Elsa, I hereby forbid you from spending any time with your so-called friends. And for the time being, you will stay in the castle, and in your room."

He can't do this to me.

So I say, "No."

"What did you just say?" Father's face reddens more.

"I said, NO." I put more force into my words.

"Do not speak to me in that tone," Father says.

"I don't care," I say. "I've not been doing what you said I have. And you have no evidence to prove it. I don't deserve a punishment for something I haven't done."

"I never thought you would lie straight to my face," Father says softly. "And I never thought you wouldn't see through the act your friends have constructed. Can't you see, Elsa? They are using you. They only want the throne. They don't care about you, they never have, and they never will."

"You're wrong." My anger burns. "They do care about me. They're my first real friends. Why don't you believe me? Why do you believe the words of your spies over your own daughter? The daughter who has done every single thing you've asked? Who has given up her life for the last ten years to please you? How can you? Father!"

I'm crying steadily now, but I don't stop speaking.

"For once in my life, you did something good for me — you got me out into the world — and now you want to take that away? You want to take away my friends — the only friends I've had in my life — you want to take that away? Father, why would you take away the only happiness in my life?"

Maybe I'm being dramatic. Maybe I have reason to be so.

Father raises his hand, and for a moment, I wonder if he is going to slap me.

I flinch as I'm thrown back into a memory:

"_Elsa, get it under control!" Father paces before me, rubbing his chin. _

"_I'm trying," I sob. "I'm trying." _

"_Not hard enough," he snaps. _

"_Darling," Mother says, but Father ignores her. _

_Shaking, I lift my hands up and try — once again — to make the ice from my room's walls recede. I imagine it disappearing, vanishing, evaporating into the air. But it doesn't. It says there, frozen. _

_Father lets out an impatient huff. "Elsa . . . ," he growls. _

"_I can't do it, Father! I can't do it!"_

"_Yes, you can," he says, but the words aren't encouraging. "You must learn to control it. Time is running out. If you don't learn it soon. . . ."_

"_She'll learn," Mother says. "She still has years." _

_I nod, glad Mother is on my side. _

"_We've already wasted years with no progress," Father says. _

_I deflate and sink to the ground. _

"_Stand up, Elsa," Father says. "You must try again. Try until you get it." _

_I do as he says, but I'm trembling so much I can't keep my hand steady or concentrate. _

"_Elsa!" Mother cries and I realize more ice is covering the walls. _

"_What do I do?" I scream. _

"_Control it," Father yells. "You have to control it!" _

_I look at Father, and suddenly, anger sparks inside of me. Father wants me to control it so badly — and I want the same thing — but can't he see that I'm trying as hard as I can? _

_My hands still shaking before me, Father approaches me. "Control it, Elsa. You must control it." _

"_Get away from me," I say in a low voice. I'm unstable right now, he must know that. _

_Father doesn't move. He should — I could hurt him. _

"_I'm not afraid of you, Elsa," he says, his voice tight. _

"_You should be," I hiss, and ice shoots out of my fingertips. _

_Father shouts out and throws himself out of the way just in time. _

_Collapsed against the chair, he stares up at me, stunned. Mother rushes to his side, and checks him for injury. _

_I should feel horrified but I don't. I feel satisfaction. _That is what happens when you pressure me, Father, _I think. _

_The shock resides, and anger rises in Father's eyes. _

"_You witch," he snarls. He throws Mother's arms off him and stands up. Walking forward to me, he lifts his hand and slaps my cheek. _

_I stagger backwards, and touch my cheek. I should be angrier, but now all the feelings inside me fade away, and I'm left feeling empty. _

_Just empty._

I am reminded of that memory now, as Father's hand is up. It will be the second time he has hit me, the second time he has hurt his own daughter. I close my eyes.

Then, the anger burns out of Father's eyes, he lowers his hand, and says, "I'm sorry, Elsa, but my word is final."

The first time my world came crashing down was when the trolls erased the memories of my sister, Anna, and I had to live in seclusion.

Now is the second time the walls of my world have been torn through, broken, and I wonder, will they ever be built up again? Can they ever be built up again?

* * *

**Author's Note: And Chapter 12! Good? Bad? Okay? Give me some feedback (I love hearing your thoughts)! As always, thanks for reading!**

**- J. Dom**


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Nothing Like I've Ever Known Before

* * *

Deep into the night, I lie in my bed, still awake. My thoughts chase each other around in circles, a continual train of, _Why would they do this to me? Why would they do this to me? Why would they do this to me? _

It starts to snow in my room. I shiver, but it's not because of the cold.

I remember the terrible feeling I had after almost hurting Father, and him slapping me. I knew I deserved the red mark on my cheek. I had no one other than myself to blame for that.

I remember my mother coming into my room that night after the disastrous event. She lay in bed with me and stroked my hair, talking quietly in my ear.

She told me that Father only wanted what was best for me, but he was willing to go any lengths to get that. He was willing to push me until I broke, then push me more. But he only wanted what was best for me.

I didn't believe it then. I don't believe it now.

There's a knock on my door.

"Who is it?" I ask, my voice coming out as little more than a croak.

"Elsa," Jack says. "Please let me in."

"I can't," I say. "I can't see you anymore. My parents — "

"I talked to them, Elsa," he says. "We all did. Your father . . . I don't think he believed me, but your mother talked him into letting us all continue to see each other. Elsa, I'm not lying to you just so I can use you or whatever. I'm not who they say I am, Elsa. Please, believe me."

"I never thought you were that person," I whisper, but he doesn't hear me.

"Elsa?" he says.

I slip out from under the covers and walk to the door. My feet sound unnaturally loud on the frozen ground.

"I'm here," I say, leaning against the door.

"Do you want to build a snowman?" he asks.

I freeze. That's what Anna used to say whenever she wanted me to show off my powers and play with her.

How could Jack know about that?

"There's a fresh layer of snow on the ground," he continues. "And you know it's been freezing for days — the ice is probably frozen. Ash and I could test it out and we can go ice skating. What do you say? Elsa?"

For a moment, I wonder if Father is right. If the Frosts really are just using me because I'm the future queen.

I push the thought away. These are my friends. They would never do that to me. They would never lie to me. They would never believe the things Father believes.

That I am an evil, rotten, worthless human being.

"Elsa?" Jack says again, and there's a note of worry in his voice.

"I'm still here," I say, ". . . and yes, I'd like to go ice skating."

I can almost feel him smiling through the door.

"Let me get ready," I say. "I'll meet you by the gates?"

"All right," he says, "see you there."

Once he leaves, I get dressed into my winter clothes and fix my hair into a braid. For a few moments, I just stare out the window, looking at the snow outside, and stare at my room, looking at the snow inside.

Strangely, luck seems to be with me. Since there is already snow and ice outside, I need not worry about my powers. Especially not since my emotions are so out of control.

Once I take everything in, I open my door quietly, and head out.

As I'm about to turn the corner that leads away from the royal family's quarters, I hear a voice.

"Elsa?"

I twist around to see Anna looking at me, fully dressed, hair in two braids, questions on her face.

"What are you doing up?" she asks.

"I'm going outside," I say, "I need some air."

"Can I come with you?"

I bite my lip. I should say no, unstable as I am right now. I can't hurt my sister again. But instead, I say, "You can come."

A brilliant smile graces Anna's face. "Really?"

It's the first time in a long time that I've agreed to hang out with her. She must wonder what is going on, but her excitement for the night is too great.

She catches up to my side and bumps me on the elbow. I don't resist her, my mind too worn to do anything.

"Where are we going?" she asks. "What are we going to do?"

"We're meeting my friends," I say, trying to keep my voice down, and eyeing her to do the same. "You know, Jack and Ash and Asta. We're going ice skating."

"Ice skating!" Anna exclaims. "Is it cold enough for that?"

"Ash and Jack seem to think so."

"I haven't ice skated since . . . last year," she says. "It seems so long ago, though."

"It does," I agree. Just last year, I couldn't imagine that I would have friends, that my relationship with my father would be tested, that I would be walking into the cold night with my sister. Together.

We reach the gates, and the guards give us questioning looks, but when I order them to open the gates, they don't refuse.

Ash, Jack, and Asta are all waiting for us. In the moonlight, the three of them look pale. Asta is almost a ghost. I am sure I look worse.

The three of them smile at me, tentative smiles, like they're afraid I'll break if they smile too wide.

Maybe I will.

"How are you doing?" Asta asks me.

"How are you?" I ask. "Over your cold yet?"

"Not quite," she says, wrinkling her brow, "but I couldn't pass the chance of going ice skating. Isn't this the most perfect night?"

Anna stands beside me, silent, which is unusual for her. I realize she's never met my friends before.

"Anna," I say, "this is Jack, Asta, and Ash." I point to each of them respectively.

"Nice to meet you," Anna says, and for once, she seems shy. She's probably never had friends of her own, either, so this might be awkward for her. Especially since these are _my _friends.

My friends.

The sound of the words tastes glorious in my mind.

Jack grins at me. "I'm glad you came," he says. "For a moment, I was worried you weren't going to."

"I wouldn't break a promise, now would I?" I smile back at him, but it's forced. I can't remember the last time I forced a smile.

Jack's smile withers, like he knows what I am thinking. Even in the short time we have spent together, he already knows me well.

Since when did this all happen?

We start walking to a small pool outside of the village that's big enough to ice skate on, and small enough to be completely frozen.

As we walk through the town, the sounds of the night greet us, filling the air with a strange music that twines around us and tugs at our minds. The night is beautiful. The moon is full and big and bright. The air is cold, but not bitterly so, and there is no wind to make it worse. No one is awake in the town to ask us what we're doing up at this time of hour. I'm grateful for this. I don't really want any probing questions right now.

We reach the pool, and I think all of us let out a collective breath. The frozen surface reflects the moon and the mountains perfectly, a picture so heart-achingly beautiful I wish I could capture it forever. Around the pool, the trees are touched with snow that weighs down their branches, but still the pine needles show through.

"This is amazing," Anna breathes out.

"It is," I say.

Ash and Jack get onto the ice, and using some tools they'd procured from the castle, start making sure the ice is safe. Once they've deducted that it is, we all put our skates on, and step onto the ice.

Suddenly afraid, I almost slip and fall, but my sister grabs me just in time. I smile at her. "Thanks. I haven't skated in so long. . . ."

"I know," she says, her big eyes staring at her hands around my arms. Like she can't believe she's touching me and I'm not moving away.

Finally, we separate and start to skate.

It's an exhilarating feeling, moving around on the smooth ice, feeling the wind whip around you as you fly. I don't know how long we skate. I don't care.

Soon, the sky is lightening on the edges, and we decide we should probably head back. As we start to skate back to the edge, it happens.

First, there's a snap, like a stick breaking. Then there's a crack, like the ice breaking.

We all freeze.

And then we realize that the ice really is breaking.

And that's when we panic.

Anna starts skating back as fast as she can, but I shout, "Stop!"

"You'll only make it worse," Ash says, "if you put pressure on it."

"We need to move slowly," I say. "Try and be as light as possible."

I know that I can fix this. I know that only I have the power to. If I could just use my power, I could heal the crack, save us all.

Or I could kill us all.

Is it worth the risk?

We start to move toward the edge, which is still several yards away. Anna is in the front, then me, Ash, Jack, and Asta. I glance back at Jack and Asta, worried. They should be up here with us, not at the back.

The wind snaps around us. The ice cracks, and we can see a large dark line in the middle of the pool. Spreading.

"Faster," I urge Anna, and she inches across the ice just a bit more quickly.

"It's moving too fast!" Asta cries.

I close my eyes and take in a deep breath. I have to do this. Or we'll all freeze to death in the ice cold water anyway.

Before I can do anything, the ice cracks again and the lines start spiderwebbing their way all over the ground, heading toward Asta.

"No!" Jack shouts, and he jumps behind Asta, pushing her in front of him. She falls to the ground.

He falls into the water.

"Jack!" Ash, Asta, and I scream.

The cracking ice had reached him just as he had jumped behind Asta, and the pressure he put on it was just too much for the ice.

"Anna, Asta," I shout, "go!" Anna and Asta heed my word and turn and start to skate back.

I want to save Jack first, but I have to keep the others safe, too. So I crouch slightly, and stomp down with my foot.

_Please work, please work, please work. Quickly, quickly, quickly._

Ice shoots across the pond, mending the cracks, and making it whole again. I leave just enough room for us to pull Jack out of the water.

"Ash," I yell, "help me!"

He's by my side in an instant.

I take off my coat and my skates and say to Ash, "I'm going to get him."

"No, you're not," he says, pulling off his vest and skates, too. "I'm going to."

"You'll freeze!" I say.

He gives me a tight smile. "No, I won't."

"I should go," I say, putting my hand on his arm to stop him.

"And what will stop you from freezing?"

"I . . ."

I'm never cold. It's a fact. I'm not sure if I will die going into that water or not, but it's a lesser chance than Ash.

Ash smiles at me again, the same smile I have gotten used to seeing. "I'll be fine," he says.

And he dives into the water.

I place my hands on the edge of the hole, staring into the water, but it's so dark I can't see anything. Jack has been down there for ages . . . he could already be dead.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

That can't happen.

Not Jack. Not Jack.

Please not Jack.

* * *

**Author's Note: And the stakes are raised again! :OOO What do you guys think? What will happen next? Oh, the suspense! Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you're enjoying it so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts about this story!**

**- J. Dom**


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

I See Your Face

* * *

I breathe in and out.

"They're not coming up!" Asta cries behind me on the shore. I can hear Anna sobbing.

"I'm going in," I say.

"No!" Anna shouts. "Not you, Elsa! I can't lose you!"

"I have to save them," I say. "I can save them. I know I can."

And without another word, I jump into the water. It surrounds me, so cold, so cold, but it doesn't bother me. I am aware of the cold, but it doesn't have an effect on me.

I open my eyes under the water and see nothing but pitch black darkness. Then I see something that I don't expect at all: Light. Under the water. Just a bit of orange and yellow and red. Like fire.

For some reason, I know that it _is _fire.

How can fire and water be together?

I swim toward the light as fast as I can, but my arms and legs are sluggish in the chunky, half frozen water. I can feel my supply of air shortening. How can Jack be alive if I can barely last as long as I have?

I reach the light, and I realize it is coming from Ash. Ash is holding his brother in his arm, and has his hand over his heart. He's pumping fire into Jack's heart. I don't know where the wild thought comes from, but I know it's true.

I swim over to the two of them, and Ash looks up at me briefly. He waves his hand at me to go away. I shake my head no. I'm not going anywhere.

Quickly running out of air, I know I have to do something. I need to help get Ash and Jack up to the surface.

Then something happens. The light disappears, and Jack and Ash vanish as well. I reach forward, trying to feel them in the water, but there is nothing.

I start to panic. Where have they gone? I look above me. I can't see the hole anymore either. I'm trapped down here. I'm going to drown.

I'm going to die here.

The realization comes over me, and I open my mouth and let my remaining breath out. I'm giving up. . . .

No.

You cannot give up.

You have to live through this. You and Jack and Ash are all going to get out of this. You have to.

I wrap my arms around myself, some strange, unknown instinct fueling me, and then whip my hands out. White ice, as bright as light, shoots through the water, illuminating everything.

It's then that I see Ash trying to keep Jack aloft, but losing strength. I see their faces, pale ovals in the moonlight strewn water.

And it's then that one of my ice spears pierces Jack's heart.

I scream, a noiseless sound, and bubbles burst from my mouth.

Ash struggles to swim upwards toward the hole I can now see, light filtering through it softly, just barely enough. I swim as fast as I can toward them, but it still seems agonizingly slow. My chest tightens more and more as it yearns for air.

I reach Ash and Jack, and see the hole straight above us. Ash and Jack are sinking, Jack's body too heavy for Ash, Ash too tired to carry him.

My chest is on fire. I have to get air or I won't be any help. Swimming up to the hole, I break through the surface, and gasp in air.

"Elsa!" I hear Anna and Asta cry.

I don't say anything to them; just dive back into the water.

I can barely see Ash and Jack through the light coming from the moon, but I see their dark forms sinking, sinking. How had we not realized how deep this pool was?

Swimming toward them, I kick my legs and wave my arms as fast as I can. But it's no use. Ash and Jack are sinking faster than I can swim.

Suddenly, fire erupts in the water, encircling everything. Ash lets go of Jack, and, still full of fire, swims up to me. In the light provided by the fire, I can see his eyes full of regret and guilt and shame. All similar emotions, but all different.

He grabs my arm and pulls me upward.

I scream again. _No! _

But Ash is too strong for me.

Just before we hit the surface, I look down again, but I can't see Jack's body. It has disappeared.

Anna and Asta are there to pull us out of the water as we break through the surface.

"No," I shout, "we have to go back — Jack."

"He's dead," Ash says, his voice flat. "He's dead. . . ."

"_No!" _The scream rips it way through my raw throat.

"_He's DEAD," _Ash shouts back at me. "There's nothing we can do for him!"

I whimper under Ash's furious glare, and I wonder if he knows that it was me who killed his brother.

I killed him.

"I thought you were dead," Anna sobs, and she wraps her arms around me. I wrench myself away. Asta just cries.

"We're alive," I say. "But . . . Jack . . ."

We reach the edge of the pool and, finally on solid ground, I feel like just lying down and falling asleep. But I know nothing will let me sleep tonight.

I stare back at the pool, hoping that somehow Jack survived, that he's going to break through the surface right now, that he's . . .

Numb, I turn back to Ash and Asta and watch them cry out, tears streaming down their faces, their eyes empty of any hope.

Magic.

My magic.

I killed him.

I killed Jack.

Asta shakes Ash. "You have to get him back! Ash! Jack — come back! You have to come back!"

Ash presses his hands into his hair, his face full of grief and helplessness, and I see the area under his palms growing red. Heat starts to fill the air.

Ash stands up, and he roars in pain and despair. A ring of fire materializes, and it shoots around him. Just like my ice had shot into Jack's heart.

Except he does not hurt anyone.

I did.

Suddenly, I realize what I am seeing.

Ash is surrounded by a corona of reds and oranges and yellows. Fire. He is a fire user. Just like I can control ice and snow, he can control fire. The opposite of the cold. Heat.

How could I have not seen?

But this is not important. Jack's . . . death is. Jack dying is. Jack dead is.

No matter how I say it, it still seems unreal.

* * *

**Author's Note: Wow! What an intense chapter. So what did you think? Good or bad? I'd love to hear your thoughts! Thanks for reading!**

**- J. Dom**


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

You and I

* * *

They can't find Jack's body. We'd assumed the pool wasn't very deep, but in reality, it is. And it's too cold to try and dive in there to get his body.

It's been two days since the incident. Two days since Jack died. Two days since I killed him.

In that time, Ash and I have . . . talked.

It went something like this:

"I'm sorry," I said.

"I'm sorry, too," he said.

"What for? I . . . you know what I did. You saw what I did."

"And you saw what I did," he said, "what I let happen. I'm the older brother, I was supposed to protect him, I was supposed to make sure things like this didn't happen."

"But it was my fault," I said. "You can't blame yourself."

He looked up at me, and I realized how intense his golden eyes were. Just like the fire he wielded. "You're an ice user," he said quietly.

I nodded. "And you can control fire."

He let out a laugh. "Big fat use that did me."

"I saw you . . . you tried to save him, you tried to warm him up, heat up his heart . . ."

"And it didn't work. What's the point of powers when they aren't even useful?"

"I don't know," I said softly. "I think we're just cursed."

"Cursed," he echoed. "That's the right word. Cursed. You and I. Both of us. Cursed."

And in that moment, I realized I had more in common with Ash than I had ever thought.

And it's for that reason that we have barely left each other's sides since Jack died.

Call it a rebound, if you will, but I find this strange comfort in having Ash near me. His quiet, angry demeanor doesn't make me feel better, but somehow, it comforts me. Does that make any sense?

No, probably not, because the feelings I'm feeling right now are too tangled to even decipher.

"Elsa," Ash whispers through the door of my room. Until now, night, it seemed, was the only time I was alone. Mother and Father and Ash guard me in the daytime, but everyone left me at night. It was the only time I was alone, and sometimes I was grateful for it, and sometimes I was not.

I want to be free of these thoughts that swirl and spin and weave and wind through my mind. They are like the snow billowing outside. I can't stop them any more than I can stop the weather from continuing its course of destruction.

Having not even bothered to get in my sleep clothes, I walk to the door and let Ash in. It's the first time in ten years that I've ever let someone into my room. Ash stares at the walls and ceiling and floor, all iced over solidly, but doesn't make any comment. Instead, he just pulls me into him, and I relax into his arms. I know I shouldn't be doing this, but Ash knows about me. He knows about everything that I am.

And I can't reject someone whose brother has just died.

"I can't stop thinking about him," Ash says. "I can't stop thinking about him."

"I know," I say. "I know."

It's hard for me. I can't imagine how much harder it is for Ash, Jack's own brother.

I feel ice creeping over my hands and onto Ash's back, and I yank myself away.

"Elsa —"

"Don't touch me!" I scream. "I can't hurt you! I can't hurt anyone else!"

"You're not going to hurt me," he says. He turns his back to me, and I see the ice has gone, replaced by wisps of smoke.

He leans closer into me, his golden eyes staring into mine. "I'm a fire user, Elsa," he says. "My heart is on fire, just like yours is frozen." He winces at that. "You know what I mean. Anyway, you can't hurt me. We can't hurt each other. Ice and fire don't mix. Elsa, for the first time in forever, we can just be _us_. We don't have to be afraid of hurting anyone when it's just the two of us."

I breathe out. Can it be true? Could I have found the one person I could finally be safe with?

"Elsa . . ." Ash reaches out and touches my cheek. I pull away out of habit. "For the longest time," he says, "I thought I was alone. I thought that there would never be someone with whom I could be safe. Until I saw . . . you."

My heart aches. That's how I always felt, too. With Jack.

"I'm sorry I thought you were a danger, Elsa," he says. "You were so secretive . . . I thought maybe you knew about me and Jack and Asta. I thought you knew what I was capable of. I thought you might tell everyone, so that's why I threatened you. I never thought . . . your secret was your power."

He moves toward me, but without thinking, I move away from him. I am still not used to being touched, or even being close to someone.

"Don't be afraid anymore," he whispers. "You don't have to be afraid anymore. I'm here, and together, we can be so much stronger."

I turn around, still trying to comprehend Ash's words. If what he says is true . . . I stare into the mirror on my wall, and I see a girl. Her hair is white, her eyes are ice blue, her skin is pale. She has bags under her eyes, and her nose is red from too much crying. She looks tired. Exhausted. Worn through and through.

She looks dead.

I reach out to touch the mirror, wondering if that is truly my reflection. Just as I touch it, though, it, too, ices over and the reflection disappears.

I collapse onto the floor and start sobbing. "I can't control it, Ash. I can't control it!"

He kneels beside me, but doesn't touch me. He seems to know that I don't want to be touched — that I can't be.

"You can control it, Elsa," he says. "Together, we'll learn."

No. No. No.

I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this.

_You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. _

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Elsa, just breathe.

I can't tell if that's me speaking or Ash. I can't tell if I'm just going crazy or if I'm still sane.

I killed someone.

And I can never forgive myself for that.

* * *

**Author's Note: Lots of angst here. So, what do you think of this new turn of events? Exciting? Disappointing? Thanks for reading!**

**- J. Dom**


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Life is So Much More

* * *

"Your mother and I are going on a trip," Father says.

"What?" My mind us sluggish today, dulled by too many thoughts running through my brain.

"We're leaving," he says.

His words catch up to my mind. "Wait, why? Why are you leaving me? You can't leave me!"

"It's important business," Father says. "The people of Corona are celebrating, and they have invited us to come. You remember King Eugene and Queen Rapunzel, don't you? They are celebrating the twenty-fifth anniversary of the return of Queen Rapunzel, and they have invited us to attend."

"You can't leave me."

"It's important that we show up to this. There is our reputation to uphold. Elsa, I know you're going through a hard time right now, but as future queen, you need to deal with these things."

Mother nods, and says, "Elsa, you're strong. Everyone knows that. You can get through this."

I don't believe I can.

Ash stands beside me and puts his hand on my shoulders, gently rubbing the muscles.

Father looks unhappy at this motion.

I don't pay any heed to Ash's touch or Father's expression.

Instead, I compose myself, and make a decision.

I say, "Father, I know the reputation of the kingdom hangs on this, so I will not put my own selfish desires in way of upholding the kingdom."

"Thank you, Elsa." He hesitates, then says, "I'm sorry for not believing you, Elsa. Now . . . I know you would never put your reputation as future queen in danger. I'm sorry for ever doubting you."

I sniff, but I don't say anything. The hurt of Father's betrayal might've been painful before, but now it is just a distant, trivial thing.

* * *

Asta stares at me with her eyes that are exactly like Jack's.

She's sitting in the abandoned kitchens. It's night, not quite early morning, so the other staff aren't here yet.

I knew she would be here, though. Asta has been given time off to mourn, but because people are drawn to familiar places in dire times, I figured she would be here.

I sit beside her, close but not close enough to touch.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"I'm fine," she whispers. Then, "I'm not fine. Oh, I don't know. Sometimes I feel like everything is just fine, and then sometimes . . . sometimes everything is so much worse. I want to forget, but then I don't want to. It's such a battle inside me. Elsa, what do I do?"

"I can't tell you, Asta," I say, "because I don't know myself."

She starts crying which then turn into hiccups which turn into large coughs.

"Asta," I say, "are you all right? Do we need to get you to the doctor? You're not over your cold, are you?"

The cold of That Night and the sorrow she possesses probably don't help.

"I'm f-f-fine," she says. "I just need to rest."

"But you can't," I say.

She looks up at me. "No, I can't."

"I know the feeling."

She leans her head against my shoulder, and I don't protest.

"Elsa?" she says, just as I was about to fall asleep.

"Yes?" I murmur.

"I wish I could tell you . . ."

I fall asleep before I can reply, and when I wake up, Asta is gone, and I've forgotten that she had wanted to tell me something.

* * *

**Author's Note: It's short, I know, but I'm updating with two chapters today, so that should make up for it. **

**Thanks you for reading!**

**- J. Dom**


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Say Good-Bye to the Pain

* * *

I haven't seen Anna at all since Jack died.

There, I said it. I'm getting better, aren't I?

But I haven't seen Anna since he died.

Not many people have seen her, and I suspect she's spending time in her room. Anna has all these fantasies in her head, but I doubt she imagined she would someday see someone die. And now that she has . . . it's impossible for her to understand.

I'm perfectly fine to not talk to anyone but Ash and Asta, but Anna needs attention and care and loving. I'm not surprised when she finally comes out of hiding and tries to talk to me.

"Elsa," she says, "are you all right?"

I've been asked the question millions of times, and I still don't know how to respond to it.

I could say "I'm fine," I could say, "I'm doing okay," I could say, "No, help me, please, or I'm going to fall apart."

But none of the answers seem right, so I don't say anything at all.

"How are you holding up?" I ask her.

She sniffs. "I'm okay."

"I know this has been a lot for you," I say, "but I want you to know . . . that I am here for you. I may not be able to talk to you all the time or even see you, but I'm here." I point to her heart. "I'm here in there."

Anna nods. "I know."

* * *

The news comes so unexpected.

Father and Mother left three weeks ago, and were expected to be back by now.

But they aren't.

And they never will be.

They didn't even make it to Corona, the storm hitting them a few days after they set sail.

I always thought that my father and mother would die . . . because of me. It's a horrible thought, but it's one that I could see happening.

I never thought they would die because their ship sank. Because they drowned. Not because of me. But because of a storm.

A storm.

Storms are the center of my life lately, it seems. One storm pushed me into killing Jack. One storm killed my parents. What will the next do? Kill my sister?

I can't let that happen.

Someone knocks on my door.

"Elsa?" It's Anna. "Please, I know you're in there."

I don't respond to her at all.

I don't say anything.

I don't think anything.

I don't feel anything.

Instead, I just close my arms around my knees, drawing them up to my chest. And I know then that if I ever hurt someone close to me again, I, too, will break, and maybe, I will never be able to be healed.

* * *

_End of Part 2_

* * *

**Author's Note: *sigh* So much angst. So, what did you think? Still good so far? I hope so! Thanks for reading, as always!**

**- J. Dom**


	19. Part 3 — Chapter 18

_Part 3 — Jack (Do You Want to Build a Snowman?)_

* * *

Chapter 18

I'm Trying

* * *

_three years later_

* * *

"Your sister, Princess Anna, is wondering if there are any changes you'd like to make to the wedding arrangements," Gerda, my personal servant, says.

I glance over the sheets upon sheets of paper before me, and say, "No, I think everything is perfect."

Gerda looks slightly disappointed that I didn't actually read any of them.

"Has Anna reviewed all of these?" I ask.

"Yes, Queen Elsa," says Gerda. "She just wanted a second opinion. And as queen and her sister, she thought you would be most fit to do such. It would help if you actually read through them," she adds, despite herself.

I laugh. Normally, I might reprimand the servant who said such things to me, but Gerda has been with me for three years, and the two of us, while not exactly close, are friends. I have become accustomed to Gerda's sharp tongue, and I've come to enjoy it.

Gerda licks her lips. "Your sister really would like your opinion, Your Highness."

"Yes," I say, "I understand. Just give me some time, okay? The wedding's not for another two weeks."

"Agreed," Gerda says. She gathers the papers up. "I'll put these in the throne room for you. Oh, and you have a visitor." She winks at me (which is more like an eye seizure), and I wonder who it is.

"Where is this . . . visitor?"

"Oh, he's waiting for you in the throne room. He seems quite excited to meet you."

_He? _

I follow Gerda out of my room and down the halls and into the throne room where I see —

"Ash!" I cry.

I run forward and leap into his arms. He laughs, a deep sound that makes my insides squirm.

"Elsa," he says, "or should I say Queen Elsa?"

"It's just Elsa to you." I punch him lightly on the shoulder. "You know that."

He wraps me in a hug once more, burying his face into my hair. "It's so good to see you," he says.

"You, too," I say. "I didn't know you were coming home today! I thought it would be another week, at least."

"It was supposed to be a surprise," he says. "I figured you'd miss me after not seeing me for a year."

"Miss you?" I laugh. "Isn't that a bit tame of a word?"

He smiles at me, a brilliant smile I can't help but fall in love with.

After his brother's death and my parents' deaths, Ash and I had spent a lot of time together. Being the only person I could become close with, I let him in. Since I was underage, I couldn't be crowned queen, but could still rule from behind the throne, letting my advisors and regent make the official decisions. I'd persuaded them to relieve Ash of his duties and let him travel the world, like he's always wanted to.

For the last year, he's been gone. I've missed him terribly, but I know he's doing what he's always dreamed of. Becoming the person he wants to.

I examine him, taking everything new about him in. His hair is shorter than it was last time I saw him, and he almost seems to have grown (if that's even possible). But his eyes are the same beautiful golden color.

"You've changed," I whisper.

"So have you," he says, "Queen Elsa."

"Don't call me that."

He smiles playfully, and for a moment, it reminds of the smile his brother, Jack Frost, used to have on his face. I feel a dull ache, but it disappears soon.

Ash is not his brother.

"I'm sorry I missed your coronation," he continues.

"You missed a lot more than that," I say.

"I know," he says. "I heard. What was up with you running away from the kingdom? What happened? I didn't pay much attention to the gossip because I wanted to hear it from you."

My cheeks grown warm. "Well . . . my secret got out. Everyone knows I can control ice and snow now."

"Really?" he said. "I'd heard the rumors, but I couldn't possibly think they were true. You always seemed so in control."

"I'm better now," I say. "I can really control it. Anyway, once they found out, they were afraid of me . . . understandable." I remember the feelings I'd had when my secret was revealed: pure fear. But now, now it just seems like a far away memory, something so distant it can barely be seen or felt.

"So I ran to the North Mountain," I say. "I stayed there for a while until Anna came up. She tried to get me to come back down but I . . ." I pause. I've never told this part to anyone. Because it's painful. And to tell it to Ash? When the same thing happened to his brother, but I couldn't stop that one?

"You froze her heart," Ash guesses.

I glance up at him. His face is emotionless.

"Yes," I say quickly, "I did. So she went to the trolls and they said only an act of true love could save her. I was captured by Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, and they tried to get me to bring back summer. Unfortunately, I didn't know how. But then I escaped, Hans tried to kill me, Anna froze, but love thawed her." I'm trying to get this story over as quick as possible.

"Wait a minute," Ash says, gripping my shoulders. "This . . . Prince Hans tried to kill you?"

"Yes . . . ," I say. It's not the first assassination attempt I've had, but it's one of my worst memories. Maybe it's because Anna gave her life up to save me . . . even though I had shut her out once again, right after telling her I'd be there for her.

Those memories are the most painful.

"What happened next?" Ash asks.

"I unfroze everything," I say.

"How?"

"Love."

"What?"

"Love will thaw," I say.

I lift my hand and ice streams out of my fingertips like water, swirls into the shape of a fire's flame, then disappears into the air.

"That's amazing," Ash breathes out. "I wish I could do that."

"You . . . you still haven't figured out how to control your power?"

"I went everywhere, Elsa," he says. "Different tribes of trolls, magic experts, magicians themselves, but no one knew the secret to how to control my fire."

"Surely you have some lead, though?"

"Yeah," he says. "Everyone tells me there's this one specific feeling . . . that if you can harness it, it will set you free."

"Like my love," I say.

"Yes," he agrees. "Like that."

There's a squeaking at the door, and it swings open. Ash and I turn to see a snowman walk through.

Ash jumps. "What's that?" he asks.

I laugh. "That's Olaf, of course, and he likes warm hugs!"

* * *

**Author's Note: TIME JUUUUUMP! XD This chapter is more of just an introductory chapter as to what's happened in the last few years. Next chapter introduces some more, uh, stuff. *cough cough* But yeah, what do you think? I'd just like to say, to those who have stuck with this story so far: thank you! You don't know how much it means to me. :D**

**- J. Dom**


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

I Wish You Would Tell Me Why

* * *

When I'm alone in my bedroom, I think too much.

Right now, I am thinking of Ash. Did he miss me at all while he was gone? Is he frustrated that he didn't find anything about his powers? Does he . . . love me?

I know Ash and I both have something between us, something fragile but still strong. Maybe it's just being able to relate to each other, being able to connect, and not being able to hurt each other.

Or maybe, it's always been something more.

Then I think of Jack.

His smile. His laugh. His touch.

It's been three years since Jack Frost died, but I still can't stop thinking about him. He was the first boy I ever liked who liked me back . . . and thinking about his brother the same way I thought about him just seems wrong.

Like I shouldn't be doing this. Shouldn't be having a relationship with Ash.

But I like Ash, too. I don't know, maybe even love. Have we even known each other long enough to love one another? Two years isn't that long.

There's a whoosh, and I start, sitting up in bed. I thought I closed the window . . . my eyes dart to the window — it's open.

Odd.

Then, I hear a voice.

"_Elsa . . . can you hear me?" _The voice is smooth and airy, like the wind itself.

"Who's there?" I ask and my voice trembles.

"Elsa." The voice grows stronger. "That's your name, isn't it?"

I know that voice.

I know that voice.

_I know that voice. _

Standing up, my whole body quivering, I say, "Jack?"

"Yes! It's me, Elsa!"

"Jack, where are you? I can't see you . . . how . . . how are you alive?"

"Alive?" The voice sounds confused. "I never died . . . Elsa. Such a beautiful name. I've been here all the time."

"No, Jack . . . I . . ." I collapse onto my bed. This can't be real. I'm hallucinating, for sure. I saw Jack die. He can't be alive now, in a disembodied form.

"Elsa . . . ," the voice says, "why can't you see me?"

"You're not real," I whimper, "you're not real, you're not real, you're not real."

"I am real. Elsa, feel me."

Something like wind touches my arm. But it's cool, not warm, not like Jack's touch at all.

I jerk away from it. "Stop!" I shout. "Go away! I can't deal with you! I'm happy now, okay! I'm — I'm with Ash now!"

The whooshing sound stops abruptly.

Then, "Ash? Who's Ash?"

"He's your brother, Jack. Don't you remember him?"

There's quiet.

I say, "Jack, you're not real. You're dead. You can't expect me to not move on with my life. I have to . . . get things done. I have to be loved. You know that. I told you my dream that day, so long ago. . . ."

"I don't remember what you're talking about," Jack says.

"How can you not remember?" I cry, desperation filling me. "You were right there! You heard me! You listened to me! You _saw _me!"

"Elsa . . . Elsa . . . Elsa." The voice seems to like saying my name.

"I'm trying to get over you now!" I say. "I'm trying to get over my parents' death! I'm trying to get over killing Anna!"

"Anna? Your sister?"

"Yes . . . how do you know that? If you don't remember anything else . . . ?"

"I've been watching," the voice whispers. "Because I don't remember. I don't remember anything. So I thought that if I observed this world I could find something that would help me regain my memories."

"You can't . . . remember anything," I say. "You don't remember . . . me?"

"Were you something to me once, Queen Elsa?"

"Once," I say, "I was. Maybe. But no more. Now I've moved on, and you should, too."

Argh. Why am I even talking to Jack's spirit? I've gone crazy, surely. This isn't right for me to be doing this. If my people could see me now, they would never even remember that I had ice powers. They'd want to lock me up because of my insanity, not my powers.

"Elsa . . . ," the voice says again. "I feel like I should know you."

"You don't, Jack," I say flatly. "Not anymore. Now would you please . . . leave me be? I can't . . . handle this — you — anymore."

"I'll leave now . . . Elsa . . . Elsa . . . Elsa."

"Please," I beg, running my hands through my hair, "please stop saying my name. You're . . . you're scaring me."

The voice stops murmuring my name at once. "I'm scaring you?"

"Yes. Now, please, will you leave?"

"I'll leave. Elsa. For you."

And the whooshing sound falls silent, the window panes shuttering, and I am left alone.

* * *

**Author's Note: He's alllliiiiiiiiivve! Or, sort of. Don't really know yet, do we? Anyway, surprised at all? I know Jack's acting kind of weird at this stage, but to be fair, he's not exactly the Guardian of Fun yet. Thanks for reading!**

**- J. Dom**


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Right Out Here

* * *

"Good morning, Queen Elsa." Ash's eyes twinkle as he says my title and name. "How are you?"

I rub my eyes wearily. "I didn't sleep too well last night."

Ash nears me. "What's wrong?"

"Ash . . ." I don't know how to word this. "I think . . . I think I'm going crazy."

Both of us early risers, Ash and I are the first to sit at the breakfast table. A servant sets my food down before me on a silver platter. I just stare at it while Ash digests my words.

He frowns. "What do you mean?"

I chew on my lip and fold my hands on my lap to keep them from shaking. As gently and slowly as I can, I say, "I saw . . . I mean . . . I heard Jack's voice last night."

A dark expression comes over Ash's face. He doesn't say anything, but motions for me to continue.

"He was talking to me . . . saying my name over and over. He couldn't remember who he was or who I was. But he'd been observing . . . us. I told him to leave me and he did. And . . . that's all."

Ash still doesn't speak for several moments after my story. I chew nervously on my lip. What have I done in telling him this? What emotions have been revived in his mind: hurt, anger, pain, sorrow?

"You think you . . . heard him," Ash finally says, his voice loud enough so just I can hear him. "But you didn't see him. Was there . . . any proof that it was him? I mean, Elsa, you could've just been hearing the wind."

"No," I say, "I really heard something. I wasn't just imagining it . . . well, maybe I was. Maybe I'm going crazy. . . . But it seemed so much like him. I haven't forgotten his voice, Ash. I remember exactly what it's like. I remember everything about him."

For a moment, Ash looks angry. Maybe it's because he knows I liked Jack first, and he knows that there is now something between us . . . something neither of us can explain.

"I have no proof it was him," I continue, "because, like I said, he didn't remember anything about himself. He didn't know anything about me . . . or you."

Ash turns his face away from me, and I remember just how hurt he is. As the oldest, he has the burdens of keeping his siblings safe. As one with powers, he also has the burden of keeping those secret and himself safe. He couldn't save Jack. Saving Asta is out of his control now. I'm not sure if he's been able to save himself, either.

Ash is closed and reclusive, but I can see through him like I see through Anna, who has her heart on her sleeve. It helps that we spent many nights after Jack died talking. Just talking. About ourselves, our powers, what they have done to us.

Ash has been subdued all his life. He's never felt like he fit in with his family. And having powers, he never fit in with anyone else. He never could.

Falling back into a conversation we once had, I remember the words he spoke to me:

_We lean up against my bed, our shoulders touching. _

"_Ash . . . ," I murmur. _

"_Elsa," he says. _

"_What was your life like? Living with powers such as yours?"_

"_It was hard to keep them hidden," he says, "like I'm sure you know. It was so hard to keep them under control. I still can't control that . . . and I regret that every day."_

"_Why? What do you regret about that?"_

"_It's not something you need to know," he says. _

"_But . . . ," I start to protest, but think better of it. Ash has his secrets; I have mine. _

"_Do other people know about your powers?" I ask him. _

"_Just my family," he says, "and you." He smiles. "I'm glad you do now. And I'm glad I know about yours. It . . . makes things easier."_

"_It does," I say. "I don't know how I'd be able to cope without you." A blush creeps up my cheeks. How intimate that sounds. _

_He laughs. "I don't know how I'd be able to get through this without you, either, Elsa." He turns his head to look at me, and breathes out, "You're so beautiful." My heart stops beating as he reaches out a hand and tugs a piece of hair from my bun. "I never noticed that before. You should wear your hair down sometime."_

"_I'm going to be the __queen," I say stiffly, still in shock by the touch. "I'm supposed to always look —"_

"_In control," he finishes for me. _

"_Yes. That's right. . . ." How is it that having barely spoken before, we are so close now? How can something so different as fire powers and ice powers bring two estranged people together? _

_Jack, I think. Jack is who brought is together. Without him, both of us would've lived our lives never knowing of the other. This is the doing of Jack. Whether he meant it or not. _

_It makes me want to cry: how Jack is still working in our lives, even though he's dead. _

It still makes me want to cry.

* * *

Later that day, after I've read through pages and pages of Anna's wedding plans, Ash strolls into the throne room with a determined look on his face.

"This can't be good," I say. My tone is meant to be light, but I'm not sure I achieved it.

"I want to go to the trolls," he says, striding toward me, before stopping and bowing, "Queen Elsa."

"It's just Elsa!" I say, but I say that only because I am in shock. Gathering my thoughts, I say, "Why the trolls?"

"You're not going crazy on me, Elsa," he says. "Anyone can see that. So there must be an explanation for Jack's appearance . . . a magical explanation. And everyone knows that trolls know more of magic than anyone else."

"They may not help us," I say.

"But they could," he says. "It's worth a try. Isn't it? To find out about Jack?" His voice cracks on the last word which shoots a pain through my heart.

"You're right," I say. "I'm almost done. Give me half an hour and we'll leave. In that time, you can get our horses ready."

Ash bows again, his back stiff as he does so. "As you wish, Queen Elsa."

I wish he would stop saying that.

Our year apart has changed us both. I am happier than I have ever been.

Ash is angry and afraid.

I know why: he's afraid he'll lose everything. And he's angry that he won't be able to stop it from happening.

It takes us an hour to get to where the trolls live. I vividly remember being here when I was eight years old. I remember Grand Pabbie healing Anna, and taking away her memories, showing me the future. Telling me that fear would be my enemy.

I have never forgotten those words.

As Ash and I travel, I can feel his anger simmering beneath his skin, close enough to the rim, but not hot enough to boil over. Soon, though, it will happen. I'm not sure what to do when it erupts.

"We should stop here," I say, motioning to Ash. Just outside of the trolls' home, we tie our horses to a tree, and walk forward.

Hundreds of rocks cover the green grass, lying in their round form. They are silent and still.

"Please," I say, "it's Queen Elsa. We would like your help . . . and advice."

At first, the trolls don't move or answer. For a moment, I wish I had brought Kristoff, Anna's fiancée, here. They would've answered to him, as they did adopt him, and he's part of their family as if he were a troll himself.

Then, the rocks start to rumble and they all start crashing toward us. I nearly jump, but Ash puts his hand on my shoulder to keep me steady.

The trolls reveal themselves and all look up at me in awe.

"It's the queen!" they shout, and they bow before me.

"Please," I say, "there is no need for that. You have helped me on more occasions than one. I ask for your help once more."

"What is it you need?" The deep voice emerges from one of the eldest trolls: they call him Grand Pabbie.

"My brother," Ash says, "he died three years ago, but Queen Elsa believes she heard his voice. Is it even possible . . . could it be possible that he's really alive?"

Grand Pabbie turns to me, the gemstones around his neck lighting up. "You attest to his death," he says. "You saw it yourself."

"I did." I nod, and grasp Ash's hand.

Grand Pabbie shakes his head slightly. "And you used to have feelings for him." Ash stiffens behind me.

Grand Pabbie waves his hand in the air, and I hear screaming as an image projects itself into the sky. It is us on that fateful night. I see Asta slipping on the ice, Jack falling into the water, my ice hitting his heart.

I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to see any more.

"Please," Ash says in a strained voice, "stop."

Grand Pabbie waves his hand again and the images disappear. Tears slip down from my eyes onto my cheeks.

"The boy you speak of," Grand Pabbie says. "Jack. I can feel his presence in the air around me."

"He's alive?" Ash says.

"In a peculiar way," Grand Pabbie says, "he is. But he is but a vapor, only to be seen by those who believe in him. Only to be heard by those who wish to hear his voice. Only to be touched by those who trust him. He has been gifted beyond imagine, and cursed beyond wonder."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Your friend has been revived by magic," Grand Pabbie says. "A deep magic that even I cannot entirely comprehend." The trolls murmur around us. "If he is to truly be part of your lives again, you must believe."

"In what?"

"In him," he says, "and most importantly, yourselves."

* * *

"How is Asta?" I ask the nurse as I enter the healing room.

"She is getting worse," the nurse says in a throaty voice. She shelves some medicine before turning her attention fully to me and Ash. "We have done everything we can to make sure she is comfortable."

"NO," Ash says forcefully. "That can't be right. She can't be . . ."

_Dying. _

Ever since Jack died, Asta's health has gotten worse. We don't know if it's partly mental strain that is affecting her physical health, some unknown disease battling at her immune system, or magic that is ailing her.

But Asta is sick. And she's getting worse.

The nurse leaves us to have some privacy, and Ash and I walk up to Asta's bed. The girl lies curled up in a ball as if she's cold, though the fire in the room provides plenty of heat. Her forehead is sticky with sweat, and her skin is pale.

As if she can sense us looking at her, she opens her eyes.

"Ash. Elsa," she rasps out and I nearly flinch at her voice. It is nothing like the sweet sound I remember.

"Asta," I say quietly.

She tries to smile, but starts coughing. A horrendous noise that sends shivers up my back.

Ash nears Asta, his face emotionless, and puts his hand on his sister's.

"Are you cold?" he asks.

"Freezing," she answers.

"I'll see what I can do."

He nears the fire, and thrusts both of his hands into the flames. Immune to the heat like I am the cold. The flames burst into the chimney, and a wave of heat pours over us. I breathe in. Even though the cold is my element, I have never liked it. The heat is what I crave. The heat of fire, of the sun, of the friction between touches.

Ash takes his hands out of the fire, and despite myself, I half expect them to be burned, blackened. But they are as whole as ever.

Asta shivers as the warmth starts to recede once again.

"You'll be okay," I tell her.

"I promise," Ash says. "I won't let you die."

Asta forces a smile. "It's okay, big brother," she says. "I'm ready if it has to happen."

It's a horrible thing for a fifteen-year-old to say. The thought of someone so young giving up their life — being _ready _for it — sickens me. Why must someone like that die?

"You're not going to die," Ash says fervently. "I promise."

Asta is still smiling when we leave.

* * *

**Author's Note: *sigh* More complications. So, whatcha think? Thanks for reading!**

**- J. Dom**


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

It's Just You and Me

* * *

I hear the voice again that night.

"Elsa . . . it's just me."

"Who is 'just me'?" I ask.

"I only know my name," the voice says. "Jack. Jack Frost. You know my name. You know me. Can't you tell me about myself?"

Grand Pabbie said that if I believed in Jack I could see him. Oh, how I yearn to see him. To look at his smile and his eyes and run my hand through his messy hair.

I want to tell Jack to leave, that he's not real. But Grand Pabbie said he was. He said he was alive. A vapor. But still alive.

I uncover myself, and swing my legs over the bed until they land over the side. Placing my hands on my lap, I say, "Why don't you remember me, Jack?"

"I don't remember any of my past," he says. "Are you saying I had one?"

"You had a lot in your life," I say.

"Why won't you tell me?"

I don't answer that. Maybe because saying the words will be too painful.

"Why can't you see me? Elsa . . . Elsa . . . Elsa. . . ."

Shivers race their way up my back.

"I have to believe in you." The words spill out of my mouth.

"You don't believe in me?" I can hear the hurt clearly in his voice. "Elsa . . . Elsa . . . Elsa. . . ."

"It's not that simple, Jack," I say. "I can't . . . it's so hard . . . for the longest time we thought you were dead. How do you expect me to react?"

"Be happy," he whispers. "Have a little joy and fun in your life. That's what life is all about: not the darkness that makes us hope for the light, but the light that makes us understand the darkness."

It's surprisingly deep for Jack.

He continues, "I've wandered for so long, Elsa. Nobody has seen me, nobody has ever heard me. I just want to belong somewhere, Elsa. Is that too much to ask?"

"Yes," I whisper back. "It might be."

"Can I show you something, Elsa?"

"What?"

"You have ice powers, right? You can control snow, the cold, all that."

"Right. . . ."

"Watch this . . ."

I hear something crawling over the surface, much like the sound my ice makes when it creeps over walls when I lose control. What is Jack doing?

Then I look to the window, and I see:

Carved on the glass by frost is . . . me. Every detail of my face is perfectly drawn with the ice onto the window.

I breathe in, I breathe out.

"Did you do this?" I whisper.

"Yes," he says. "I'm like you, Elsa. I can control the snow and the ice." I hear humor in his voice as he says, "I am Jack Frost."

* * *

**Author's Note: It's short, I know, but I should be posting a longer chapter tomorrow, so that should make up for it. Thanks for reading!**

**- J. Dom**


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

And Now We're Not

* * *

"Elsa," Jack says to me. "Why can't you see me?"

"I don't know, Jack," I say irritably, though I do know . . . sort of. Grand Pabbie said I had to believe in him. What does that mean? Believe he can do something? Believe he is real? I don't think I believe either.

"Get out," I tell him as I start to change. I wait until the whooshing sound has disappeared before I don the clothes I'm going to wear for today's complaints from my people. Today will be a long day.

Although I love being queen and the certain amounts of authority that come with it, I hate the tedious things that also come with it. As they say, there are always upsides and downsides to everything.

This job can be no worse than the one Jack had to do. I can't imagine cleaning a whole castle.

Once I'm finished, I call out, "You can come back now," though I don't really want him to come back.

The whooshing sound reappears. I ask, "Why do you make that sound?"

"What sound?"

"It sounds like wind."

"Oh, that. It's fun to fly, don't you think?"

"What?" I pause in pulling on my socks, and wonder what on earth Jack is talking about.

"I'm flying," he explains.

"You . . . fly?"

"Yes," Jack says. "It's nice, but it's also lonely. No one sees me. No one has heard me until you."

"Yes, well."

I don't know what else to say.

I'm not sure if there is anything else to say.

In the throne room, various subjects come up to me, state their problem, and who they think is to blame. It's horrible work, having to judge a person's character. I am just glad I am gifted with the ability to observe and read people, and not only chat with them like Anna.

Speaking of which . . . with Anna and Kristoff's wedding coming up . . . ugh. While I'm waiting for another one of my people to come in, I mentally make a list of the things I need to do.

I stop adding things to my list once I reach eighteen items.

The whooshing noise floats through my ears, and I turn around, trying to see where it's coming from.

"I'm right here, Elsa," Jack says, by my right. I turn to stare at emptiness. He laughs. "Currently, you're staring at my chin, but that's close enough." His voice turns melancholy. "Why can't you see me, Elsa?"

I wish he would stop asking that question.

"Please," I say, "I'm trying to concentrate, and you're not helping."

"All right, Elsa," he says, and I get the sense he's smiling, "whatever you say."

The sound of the wind disappears just as —

"Princess Anna, Your Highness," my advisor says, as one of the guards opens the door to let my sister in.

"Oh, good," I say, "it's just you."

"Just me." Anna beams at everyone around her. Ever since her little adventure with Kristoff, and him proposing to her a few months later, she's been in a perpetual state of elation. Happiness. Joy. All those things now describe Anna, and looking at her, I swear she positively glows.

She has become even more beautiful — I mean, beautifuller. Mother and Father would be proud of her. I feel a stab of pain as I think of our parents. I knew so little about them; whenever they were around, it was all about controlling my powers. I never asked them how they grew up, what they liked to do.

We never even talked about ruling a kingdom. Considering that since they were the king and queen, and I was to be the future queen, you'd think the subject would've come up. But no, I always got my lessons on ruling the kingdom from my professors, never my parents.

I wish I had thought to ask them for advice. I could use it now.

"What do you need, Anna?" I ask her.

Anna bounces up and down on her heels. "Well," she starts, "first off, I mean, firstly, or first off, whatever one is right, I wanted to ask you if you've read the papers I sent you?"

"They're both right," I say out of habit. Then, "Yes, I did. I found the plans to be quite agreeable."

Anna fidgets and doesn't look entirely pleased. "Well," she says, "don't you think that maybe some things need to be changed? Do you have any opinions at all? Did you even read it?"

"Yes, I read it," I say. "And no, I think everything is perfectly fine."

Anna is clearly distressed now, and losing all hope, she throws herself onto the floor before my feet, and says, "Please, Elsa, I don't know what to do!"

"What do you mean?" I ask. I should be startled, but Anna frequently has outbursts of dramatics.

"Well, I mean, I love Kristoff and everything, and I'm so happy for this to happen, but ever since Hans —"

I hold up my hands to stop her, and turn to the guards and my advisor. "Please wait outside."

They do as I say, and when Anna and I are alone, I say, "Now, what is the matter, Anna?"

She bites her lip. "I'm just afraid . . . that somehow . . . Krist— Kristoff will grow to hate me, too. Just like H-Hans did." I notice how she stumbles over both of their names.

"He's not going to hate you," I say patiently. "Kristoff loves you more than anything."

"I know," Anna says, "but Hans was the same way. I thought he was the one, he was so perfect . . . and now I think Kristoff is the one and he seems so perfect . . . oh, don't you see the similarities, Elsa?"

I pause. I can see what Anna is saying, and what she is afraid of, but I have seen the way Kristoff looks at her, and I have seen the way Hans looked at her. Both are entirely different. But Anna has never seen the difference, always looking away when they give her those looks.

I wonder, did Jack ever look at me like that? Does Ash?

Pushing the thoughts away, I focus on my sister, and lean forward to catch her attention.

"Listen. Anna. I know this is hard for you, and I can't imagine what you went through with Hans. But listen, please, just listen: Kristoff loves you. Just like Olaf, and Father, and Mother, and I love you. We all love you. Don't doubt that."

Anna smiles up at me, her eyes a bit watery, and says, "You're right, Elsa. I'm being silly. Of course Kristoff loves me! He's not a bit like Hans, don't you think?"

I lean back in my throne, and smile. "No, Anna, not a bit."

"I heard Jack again," I tell Ash. "Actually, he's been following me around."

Currently, Jack is floating beside me (at least, I assume so as I can hear the whooshing sound which must mean he's flying . . . impossible as that sounds).

Ash stuffs a bite of chicken into his mouth and doesn't say anything as he slowly chews the piece.

Sitting at the dinner table, Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, and a few others on the other side, I lower my voice and say, "I know this must be hard for you, Ash."

"You think?" he says sarcastically.

I don't let his tone of voice offend me. I bite the inside of my cheek, hard, to clear my thoughts. Then, I say, "I think Grand Pabbie is right . . . it took me a while to believe, but I think this is really Jack."

And once I say it, I know it's true.

Whenever I was around Jack when he was alive, I would always get this strange, inexplicable feeling. Happiness, maybe. Love, perhaps. I'm not sure. That feeling stopped ever since Jack died, and I haven't felt it since . . . until now. Now, I'm positive that it's the same feeling, even though I haven't felt it in three years. It has to be.

Which means that the voice that shadows me really is Jack.

Which means he's alive.

Which means I might even be able to see him again.

I look up eagerly in the sound of Jack's whooshing, but I see nothing but empty air. Disappointed, I turn back to my plate.

Ash doesn't say anything for a long time, so we just eat our food in silence. On the other side of the table, Anna and Kristoff let peals of laughter out. I smile at them, and wish that Ash and I were laughing, too. I haven't heard him laugh since I told him about Jack reappearing.

I miss his laugh.

Ash suddenly stands up.

"W-where are you going?" I stammer.

"Away," he says, anger in his voice, "from here. Anywhere but here."

"Ash — wait." I get out from my chair, too, and stride toward him, reaching out my arm to touch him. He jerks away from me.

"Don't touch me," he says, his voice a mere hiss.

"Ash," I say in my calm, queenly voice, "calm down. There's nothing to be upset over."

"There's nothing to be upset over?" he yells, and the dining hall falls silent.

"My brother is back!" he shouts. "And apparently he doesn't remember me! He doesn't remember any of us! And he doesn't bother to talk to his only brother, because all he's interested in is — _you_!"

I hate the stress he puts on "you." Me.

Beside me, Jack stirs. "He shouldn't be yelling at you like that."

"He's just angry," I whisper.

"What did you say?" Ash asks. Then he frowns. "You were talking to him, weren't you. Jack. Just now. He's here, but he won't show himself to me."

"Maybe you don't want to see him," I whisper.

"What?" Ash looks outraged. "He's my brother! Why wouldn't I want to see him?"

I can think up a million answers to that question, but I don't voice any.

"Hey," Jack says, and he's getting angry, too. "Don't yell at her, okay?"

"He can't hurt you, Jack," I say, this time louder, so Ash knows I am talking to Jack. Hurt crosses over Ash's face, and I know he knows what I am doing. On purpose. Just to injure him.

"What is he talking about?" Jack asks. "Are you talking . . . about me?"

"Jack," I say, "this is your brother, Ash. You probably don't remember him. And I bet you especially don't remember him now, the way he's acting."

A blank, emotionless look comes over Ash's face. Stiffly, he says, "Jack, if you can hear me . . ." But he doesn't know what to say, so the words trail off, and the end of the sentence is left hanging in the air, somewhere invisible, just like Jack.

Quietly, I say to Ash, "I think you need to leave."

He sends me a withering look. "I think you're right."

I turn around as he turns around and we both walk in opposite directions. Anna reaches out to me, and puts her arms around me, and for a moment, all I do is bite my lip in efforts to try and not cry.

It doesn't work.

"Asta," I say. "Wake up. I need to tell you something."

Asta doesn't move at first, but then she shifts, as if she can feel me staring at her, and opens her eyes. "Hello, Elsa," she says, and I wince at her raspy voice.

"How are you?" I ask.

"They have me on some strong medicine," she says, but it takes her a while to say it. She's using all the strength she has left to talk to me. I feel guilty that I'm wasting her strength, but I have to talk to her, to someone, about Jack, someone who won't blow up at me. Asta never blows up at anyone.

"So the pain's gone?" I say.

She shrugs her shoulders, then closes her eyes as more pain shoots through her body. "Sort of," is all she says. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Your brother," I say.

"Ash?"

"Well, him, too, but . . . no. Jack."

A wrinkle creases her forehead. "What about Jack? I thought . . . we haven't talked about him in a while."

"I know, but . . . Asta, he's reappeared. He talks to me right now. He's alive again."

"_What?" _Asta struggles to sit up, but I gently put my hand on her shoulder, and lay her back down.

"Reserve your strength," I tell her.

"But what do you _mean_? Jack's alive? He's . . . here?"

"In a way."

As quickly as I can, I recount everything that's happened in the last few days, including Ash blowing up.

Asta frowns, her mouth curving the same way Ash's does when he frowns, but without the anger. "Ash shouldn't have yelled at you," she says finally.

"And I probably shouldn't have said what I said to him," I say, regret filling me.

"We all make mistakes, Elsa," she soothes. "And Ash just a bit more. But he's a good person inside. I think you know that."

"Of course I do," I say softly.

"As for Jack . . . I can't believe it. I can't believe my brother is here. But . . . he doesn't remember anything, you said?"

"Not me, not you, not Ash," I say. "It's horrible, but then . . . it's also kind of nice."

"What do you mean?"

"It's almost nice to start all over with him," I say, "for him to not know that I . . . that I was the one to kill him."

"It wasn't your fault," Asta says immediately.

"Yes, it was." I expected my voice to shake, but it's strong and steady. "You didn't see what I did, Asta. You didn't do what I did."

"But I know you're a good person," she says, "and I know you make mistakes. Like I said, everyone does."

"How would you feel," I ask, "if you killed everyone that you loved?"

"You haven't."

"Just about," I say. "I killed Jack trying to keep myself alive. I killed Anna trying to protect her. I killed my parents because they were trying to help me."

"You didn't kill your parents," Asta says.

I cock my head. "Not directly, at least. But maybe they wouldn't have left if they thought the kingdom was in a good place. And maybe it would've had a better reputation if not for me. And for my powers." The last words end in a whisper.

Asta looks guilty.

"What is it?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at her.

"I . . . I shouldn't tell you this . . . especially not right now. . . ."

"What is it, Asta?" I ask sharply.

Asta sighs, and runs a hand through her limp hair. She says, "Ash isn't the only one with magical powers."

It takes a while for this to sink in.

"You mean . . . ?"

Asta looks me straight in the eye. "Yes," she says, "I have powers."

It takes another minute for me to fully comprehend the news.

"What kind?" I finally ask.

"Healing powers," she says, lifting her hand up slightly and looking at it.

"Healing —"

"I know what you're going to ask," she says, "but I can't heal myself. I've tried, but my magic just doesn't work that way. I can heal other people fine, but then I take whatever sickness they have into myself, and it's ten times worse than what they would have had — and the sickness moves a lot slower. You . . . when you were poisoned, I begged for the king and queen to let me see you, and when they had finally cleared me and I was able to . . . I healed you."

"But you were poisoned," I say. Then realization comes over me. "You're dying . . . from my poison. You're dying . . . because of me."

Asta looks desperate. "It's not like that, Elsa!"

"Yes, it is!" I cry out. "Why didn't you just let me die, Asta? Why couldn't you? The world would've been so much better without me!"

"Don't say that!"

"No, I am going to say it: _the world would be so much better without me._ It's true, Asta. You can't deny it. How many people have I hurt? How many more will I injure? Too many to count, surely. Asta . . . you should've let me die."

"But I couldn't," Asta whispers, "because it was my fault you were poisoned."

"What?" I turn to her.

"It was . . . you have to understand that it was before I knew you, before Jack knew you. The cook in the kitchen were plotting to kill the king and queen, then you, then Anna. I'm the one who serves the king and queen their breakfast, so she hired me to put the poison in the cups and bring it to them. It was just a bit of money, and I thought that if I lessened the dose that it wouldn't really hurt them. And, Elsa, we needed the money so bad."

I'm too shocked to say anything.

Asta continues her story, "But then you came into the kitchen. The cook decided to kill you first since you had so willingly walked into a danger zone. I tried to warn you, but . . . it was my fault. My fault you were dying. I had to do something. What, did you expect me to just let someone I was killing die? You wouldn't do that, Elsa. Because you're a good person. I couldn't do it because . . . well, I don't know. I'm not a good person, as you can see. But maybe, just maybe, there could be hope for me.

"That's why I tried to be your friend afterward, to be supportive to you. I thought that if I could gain the future queen's trust that all would be well. That I would be happy with myself. That I wouldn't think of myself as a horrible, horrible person for all the things I've done."

"What else have you done?" I ask, my voice so quiet I can barely hear it.

She closes her eyes, memories probably flooding through her head. "My healing power doesn't always work," she says. "I've had a hard time controlling it just like you did and Ash does. In Inmeracia, I tried to save people, but it never seemed to work. I could only heal small things, little cuts. But when it came to saving someone's life . . . I never could. I let them die, Elsa, just because I couldn't control my powers. Until you. You were the first person I saved from death, and now I see why."

"You would've killed yourself," I say, "trying to save all those others."

"Yes, maybe," she says, "but the injuries slow down once they reach my body, and only come at the slowest possible rate. It's why it's taken so long for me to contract your poison and to start dying from it."

I wish she wouldn't throw out those words.

"What do you mean?" I ask. "That you see why you were able to save me?"

"Because," Asta says, "clearly you're going to have a big impact on everyone's lives. I mean, you are the queen, and you were destined to be since birth."

_You are the queen. _

Right now, though, I feel like anything but.

After my talk with Asta, I trail around the castle, unable to think of anything else. Asta saved me from dying. Asta was possibly the cause of me dying, inadvertently. She was going to poison my parents, but keep the dosage low enough to only hurt them, not kill them.

But what if they'd died anyway? My friend . . . Asta . . . would be responsible for their deaths. How can I look someone who almost did that in the eyes?

I stomp away from the hospital wing, my footsteps loud on the cold, hard floor. The floor that is like me. I am cold and hard right now.

How could Asta not have told me? After I thought she was my friend? Anger burns through me, through my veins, through my heart, through my mind, taking over everything. She could've saved Jack! Why didn't she?

My logical side says, She can't save someone who's heart is frozen, or someone whose body can't even be found.

My irrational side says, Then she should've jumped into the water, just like Ash and I did!

Still fuming, I run straight into a servant.

"Oh!"

The servant drops the wood he was carrying and few fall onto my feet. I jump away and hop up and down to try and avoid the pain. My toes are thoroughly bruised, though.

I almost take my anger out on the servant, but then I realize it was probably my fault for being too caught up in my thoughts and not looking where I was going.

"I'm so sorry," the servant says, "Queen Elsa. Please forgive me." He drops down into a bow, his mop of blond hair falling over his face.

"It's fine," I say.

I remember three years ago when I kept bumping into Ash and Jack. I thought that phase was over, but apparently I'll have it for the rest of my life.

"Will you please forgive me?" The servant turns up to look at me, a look of anguish on his face, as if he won't forgive himself unless I do.

"I forgive you," I say.

"Thank goodness," he says, and he bows his head again.

I say, "You may rise."

He stands up, and his brown eyes are now excited, his whole body buoyant as he says, "Queen Elsa! I can't believe I've actually met the queen! I — are you all right, Your Highness?" He must've seen the annoyed look on my face. I wish he would just go away. "Is there anything I can help you with?" he asks. "Have I offended you in same way? Please forgive me!"

"No, it's fine!" I say again, a little louder this time. He stops talking. "I just . . . a lot has been going on lately."

He nods fervently, even though he has no idea.

He has no idea.

A few minutes later, and I'm spilling everything that has happened to this weird servant.

And besides, he won't tell anyone. He's bound to serve me.

* * *

**Author's Note: Phew! That was a long chapter (the longest of this whole story, in fact). So, what do you think? Big revelation, huh? WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT! Thanks for reading!**

**- J. Dom**


	24. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Have Courage

* * *

"Are you okay, Elsa?" Jack asks me.

I shoo away the servants, and look at myself in the mirror. At the elaborate gown I am wearing to Anna's wedding. Which is today.

The wedding's theme colors are blue and purple, so I am wearing a thin, light blue dress that highlights my eyes. The sleeves end with gloves, and I wear heels that are much taller than I am used to. My delicate crown graces my head, matching perfectly.

"I'm fine," I say.

"This is your sister's big day," he says. "You should be happy."

"I am happy," I say.

I am.

I'm not lying.

I'm telling the truth.

But there is something else lying with the happiness. Sadness, regret, embarrassment. As queen, I should've been well and married by now. Instead, my sister, who is three years younger than me, is getting married before me.

Isn't that just odd?

But that's not all that's on my mind. What's on my mind is too much to even be able to sort out.

Staring out my window, I see thousands of guests arriving to see the royal wedding. Everyone loves Anna, and I like to think that they fancy me, too, but . . . you never know. I wonder, would this many people show up at my wedding? And not out of duty, but because they wanted to?

_Maybe I'll just invite the whole town, _I think miserably.

"You should really turn your frown upside down," Jack says in a sing-song voice.

I long to tell him to shut up.

"Seriously, though," Jack says, "I may not remember your sister or you, but this is an important day. Let everything go, and just be happy."

He's right. I shouldn't ruin this perfect day for my sister. Putting on a dazzling smile, I look into the mirror once more, then open my doors, and say to the guards, "Open the gates!"

* * *

The wedding goes perfectly. Kristoff is waiting at the end of the hallway where I was crowned queen, looking as handsome and happy as I've ever seen. The flower girls drop the petals all along the hall, blue ice petals that I created myself. Anna wanted this wedding to not only be about her and Kristoff, but her family, too. That's why there's a large portrait of our parents on one of the walls, gracing everyone with their presence. It hurts me every time to look at it.

So I don't look.

Olaf, the ring-bearer, hops along the long pathway, grinning broadly, and trying to keep quiet. I know it's a hard task for him.

Finally, Anna appears, and everyone who was sitting stands up.

I'm sure my gasp joins everyone else's.

Her hair is down and curled into perfect waves. Her dress, which is purple and white and silvers mixed together is a sight to see. But it's not that that makes her so beautiful: it's her aura. If I could compare her to anything, I would compare her to light. Her smile shines like the sun, her happiness emits a light as bright as the stars at night, her dress is like the moon, and the way she moves down the path is like fire dancing, alive, burning.

I can't even remember what she was like when I froze her heart, so timid, so awkward.

Now, she is simply beautiful.

* * *

Ash actually looks happy for the first time in a while. I can see him winding around the crowd, grinning, and eating, and dancing with random girls. He approaches Anna and Kristoff when they're finally free to congratulate them, and Anna gives him a big hug.

I know Anna and him became close after Jack and our parents' deaths. Anna needed someone to comfort her, just like I did. And Ash needed her bright personality to light his days. I don't think I'm exactly a bright personality like Anna is. I certainly am not light.

If anything, I am dark, I am cold, I am loneliness.

I look away from Ash, and determine within myself that I'm not going to talk to him. I am not going to ruin today.

"Elsa . . . ," Jack says. "You're losing your smile."

I'm glad Jack is here to keep me in check. Smiling again, I shake hands with yet another trade partner I've never met. I'm glad none are like the Duke of Weaseltown, though. These people want to help us just like I want to help them.

"Queen Elsa," a voice says, and I turn around to see a tall man with a long beard and an eye patch move over to me.

"Hello," I say.

He bows to me, and I nod in turn. "I am Ferdan from Corona," he says. "King Eugene and Queen Rapunzel sent me here."

"And why would that be?" I ask politely.

"They have invited you to Corona," Ferdan says. "As one of your strongest trade partners, they wish to celebrate you and your coronation, and this occasion, of course." He waves around to the crowd. "Simply speaking, they want to get to know you better. Your sister, her new husband, you, and anyone you wish to accompany you are all invited."

"Thank you for this invitation," I say. "When do the king and queen wish to have an answer back?"

"I am leaving in a week," he says. "Please have your answer back by then."

"Thank you," I say once again. "You may leave."

The messenger smiles before leaving, and I can tell, just from that smile, that he, too, has had a long, tortuous past, but now he is trying to find the good in life.

How can I find the good in life? Am I even trying?

"We have been invited to Corona," I muse to Jack later at the party, sitting down under one of the canopies, enjoying the shade and the gentle breeze drifting my way.

"Exciting," Jack says. I can hear him right beside me, but his voice also sounds distant.

"Is something wrong, Jack?"

"I just wish you were able to see me," he says. "It's been so long since someone has seen me."

"How long have you been wandering?"

"I don't remember. I just woke up one day . . . and then time lost its meaning . . . and I've just been around places . . . until I finally came here and saw you."

"I see." I tip a cup of water into my mouth, the rush of liquid washing through my throat.

Jack says, "Do you want to see a cool trick?"

I'd almost forgotten about his new powers. His ice powers, just like mine.

"Okay," I say, but I'm wary.

The whooshing sound moves away from me, and for a second, I wonder if he's left me. Then, I hear the cracking sound of ice. I look down, to see ice covering the ground, and shaping itself into . . . people. Lots of people. All of them standing and looking at . . . Anna in her wedding dress. I stand up, in awe of the detail Jack has put into this. I see Kristoff in his suit, and Olaf carrying the ring, and the petals on the floor.

Then, the ice starts to move. Anna walks up to Kristoff and they kiss, and then all the people start to pair up and dance. It's amazing to watch. Each person is unique in their own way, and as I look at them more, I realize they're all people from the celebration.

"Jack," I say, "this is amazing."

"I'm pretty artsy, aren't I?" he says, and I can tell he's grinning.

"Yes," I say, looking at him, "you are."

And that's when I realize what happened.

I'm looking at him.

I'm looking at Jack.

He doesn't look any older than the day we went ice skating. His skin is still as smooth and pale. He still has his long, lanky form. He's carrying a long staff, the same one he saved Asta with. But his hair . . . it's white. I reach up to touch mine, realizing they are the same shade.

Jack looks up from the ice figures, and they all collapse onto the ground and start melting from the heat.

His eyes are blue.

Not the glorious chocolate brown I remember, but blue, blue, icy blue.

Again, like mine.

He breathes out. "Elsa?" he says.

"Jack?" I whisper.

"You can see me?"

"I can see you?"

"You can see me!" Laughing, he reaches forward and touches me.

When he used to touch me, there was warmth. Now there is only a cool touch, but still, I realize the gravity of what is happening.

Jack Frost is touching me.

Something I thought I'd never feel again.

And I am hearing his voice.

Something I never thought I'd hear again.

And I am seeing his face.

Something I'd never thought I'd see again.

I start to cry, not caring what the people around me think. Jack Frost is alive!

And, I realize, I am, too.

For the first time, I am glad.

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait between updates. Updates might be a tad slower from now, but hopefully not. Anyway, here's the next chapter! What'd you think? Thanks for reading! :D**

**- J. Dom**


	25. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Just Let Me In

* * *

After that, I sit down with Jack and tell him everything. While I do this, I wait for his eyes to clear, for him to sit up straight, and say, "I remember that!" But all through my story, nothing happens. He just stares at me, enraptured by the tale — like that is just what it is: a tale.

Not something that really happened.

"So you're saying . . . ," he says, "that Ash is my brother but he's having anger issues now, Asta is my sister, but she's dying, and you were once my crush, and you're fine. Is that right?"

"Not exactly how I would have worded it, but yes."

"That's . . . wow," he says. "I can't . . . I can't believe I still don't remember. I thought that once you told me, that I would remember everything. That it would all come rushing back. But I don't. I don't remember anything."

I don't tell him I hoped the same thing, and that I am disappointed, too. Probably not as disappointed as he is, though. He barely knows who he is.

"Jack . . . ," I say, "can you show me your power?"

"Sure." He grins. "It's fun to use."

In the privacy of my room, he stands up, waves his staff about and ice spurts out of the end, bursting into small fireworks. Well, iceworks.

"That's amazing," I say. "How did you . . . ?"

But I know the answer. When I froze Jack's heart, I must've transferred some of myself into him. That's why he has white hair now, that's why he has blue eyes now, that's why he has the same powers as I do.

He is a new, better Elsa without the insecurities and the worries and all the pent-up emotions. He is definitely a better version than I am.

If he is virtually me . . . does that mean I can't hurt him?

But what would it be like to fall in love with someone that no one else can see or hear?

_I don't care,_ I think fiercely. _I love Jack. If that's the way it is, that's the way it is. _

But if he's not exactly like me; if he still carries human traits . . . maybe I can hurt him.

"Jack," I call out, and he stops playing with his powers. "I want to try something."

He leans his staff by my bed, and walks over to me. Carefully, I touch his hand. He stares at me with his blue eyes, wondering what I am doing. I don't say anything as ice starts to appear, arcing its way up his arm.

"What are you doing?" he asks, and he starts to laugh. "That's cold and it tickles!"

"Just hold still," I say.

The ice starts crossing his shoulder . . . and then his neck . . . up his chin.

I draw my hand away.

I can't let it reach his head, like I did with Anna.

Jack shakes himself to try and get the ice off, but it stays put. "This is getting really cold," he says, and he shivers.

It's then that I know.

My heart sinks.

"Just a minute," I say, and I think of love. How I love Anna, my parents. How I love Jack.

The ice thaws until it's gone completely.

"What was that for?" Jack asks.

"Jack," I say, "I have to tell you something."

"What?" He leans forward, and I turn away, still unused to his blue, blue, icy blue eyes.

"I'm not in love with you," I say, forcing each word out one by one. "I'm in love with Ash now. I'm with him."

"I know you said that before," Jack says, laughing, "but you don't really love him. I can see it in your eyes: you still love me."

"No," I say, and now I look into Jack's eyes to send the message home, "I don't." I repeat, "I'm. In. Love. With. Ash. Now."

Jack pulls back. "You don't mean that," he says, but his voice displays the hurt inside him.

He's starting to believe me now.

I play my last card. "Jack . . . I was never in love with you. You made me happy, I admit it, but in the end, you were just distraction. It's Ash. It's always been Ash."

"No," Jack says hoarsely, "no! Elsa . . . I know I haven't known you long . . . well, as long as I remember, but I love you. Elsa, I've been with you all day long, all those talks we've had. . . . Elsa, you are the first person to be able to see and hear me! That must mean something! You can't just throw that all away!"

"Yes, I can," I say. "I have no regrets in this, Jack. I'm the queen."

"You're just a girl playing dress-up with a robe and crown," he spits out. He grabs his staff from the bed, and walks toward the window. Opening it, he gives me one last look, then flies off.

I sit down on my bed, and I let the tears flow.

Let it go, I it go.

_Let him go._

* * *

**Author's Note: Aw, Elsa. When will you learn? (That question could pertain to many things, couldn't it?) Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! I'd love it if you gave me some feedback. :D**

**- J. Dom**


	26. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

What Are We Gonna Do?

* * *

"So you can see Jack now, too," Ash says, his words flat.

Against my better judgment, I tell Ash that yes, I can.

"You believe in him," Ash says, remembering Grand Pabbie's words.

"Yes," I say.

"I believe in him, too," Ash says, "so why can't I see him?"

I chew my lip. "Maybe . . ."

"Maybe what?"

I look around me, but I know Jack isn't here.

"Once upon a time," I say, "I liked Jack. Your brother. Now that he's here . . . you're afraid you're going to lose me."

I hate saying the words because they sound arrogant, but as soon as I say them, I know they're true.

Ash looks at me in shock, but realization dawns on his face.

Finally, he says, "You're right. I am afraid I'm going to lose you, Elsa." He moves closer to me, and takes his hands in mine. "Elsa, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I can't . . . lose you to my brother."

"I'm not going to leave you, Ash," I say. "You're . . . you're one of the best things that's happened to me, too."

He notices that I say "one of the best."

"Why?" he asks. "I know you love Jack. I know you must have . . . some feelings for me, even though I don't know how much. But Jack . . . he was your first love. Surely you'd pick him over me."

"Ash," I say, "you know the reason why you and I are close."

He nods. "It's because we can't hurt each other."

"Well," I say, "I can hurt Jack. He has ice powers now, just like me. His hair is white, his eyes are blue, but . . . I can hurt him. Which is why I can never be with him. Which is why the only person I can truly be with is standing in this room. You, Ash."

Ash is quiet and he doesn't look at me for several moments.

Then, he says, "I'm not good enough for you, Elsa."

"What? I thought you wanted . . ."

"I do want to be together," he says, "so badly. But I'm not a good person. We may not be able to hurt each other, but I . . . I don't deserve someone as good as you."

"Don't you know what I've done?" I yell, suddenly angry. "I'm not good, either! I killed my parents, I killed my sister, I killed your brother, and now I'm killing your sister!"

"What?" Ash reels back in shock. "What do you mean?"

"She . . . she didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" When I don't answer, he growls, "Elsa."

Whimpering, I say, "When I was poisoned, Asta took the poison out of me and into herself. She saved my life, but in doing so, she condemned herself."

Ash lets out a noise of anger, and runs his hands through his hair, walking back and forth in frustration.

"Why didn't she tell me?" he shouts.

"I don't know why," I say. "I thought she would've . . . being your sister.'

He rationalizes within himself. "It's because . . . she wanted me to have some happiness in my life. She wanted me to get together with you. If I thought you were the reason she was dying, I wouldn't."

I'm shocked at this. "You wouldn't?"

"Well, no," he amends, "but it might change my view of you."

"Has it?"

He looks at me. "No, it hasn't. It's not your fault Asta did that. It was her own decision to make."

He lets out another noise of pain.

"Ash, I'm so sorry. If there was anything I could do, you know I —"

The door opens to my room, and Anna runs in. "Ash," she says, "Elsa, quick. It's Asta!"

* * *

_End of Part 3_

* * *

**Author's Note: Oh, dear. What's going to happen next? As always, thanks for reading! **

**- J. Dom**


	27. Part 4 — Chapter 26

_Part 4 — Ash (For the First Time in Forever (Reprise))_

* * *

Chapter 26

I'm Not Afraid

* * *

I situate myself in Asta's room. We'd moved her from the hospital to a private room in the servants' quarters. Everyone says it's to help her heal, to get better, but we all know the truth: it's where she's going to die.

For the last week, Ash has been touring nearby places, interrogating all sorts of healers to try and find a cure. Since he's not back yet, I suspect he hasn't had much luck.

As for Jack, I haven't seen him in a week. Part of me is glad for this because it makes it less painful on me, part of me isn't because it's painful to know what I did had its consequence.

There seems to be a lot of pain either way.

But this is for the good, I keep reminding myself. This is for Jack's safety.

Frost is a gentle thing, cold, but not freezing. Ice is frigid and dark. What can keep ice from destroying frost?

Nothing, I tell myself. Which is why you have to stay away from Jack.

I'm not sure if he knows about his sister or not. He doesn't remember her, but he knows the truth now since I'd told him. He knows who Asta is. Shouldn't he care?

I stare down at Asta, at her pale face, her hair strewn across her forehead, her mouth partly open. The way she breathes is tortuous, short, small gasps for air. I wonder if, sometime soon, they will stop.

"Asta," I say out loud.

She doesn't stir, too deep in her sickness to even hear or acknowledge me.

"Come on, Ash," I whisper. "You're running out of time."

I hate the words as I say them.

I hate them.

Asta may have almost killed my parents, may have almost killed me . . . but she doesn't deserve this. She is my friend, after all.

Half of me wants to be here when it happens.

Half of me wants to run, run, run away, until the pain is gone, until the ache in my legs is the only thing bothering me.

I hate this feeling of helplessness.

Of not knowing what to do.

Ever.

I stare out the window of Asta's room, at the falling leaves, musing to myself. Only three years ago, Ash, Jack, Asta, and I had a picnic outside by the mountain. We talked about our dreams . . . I wonder if our dreams now are the same, or if they are different.

I can't even remember what we all said. Too much, it seems, has happened between then to push the memories out of my head.

I've been spending most of my free time in Asta's room, but as queen, I can't spend all my time there since Asta isn't family. Just a friend.

Called to my throne room by Kai, I give Asta one last look before tucking the cover over her, and leaving.

Like Gerda, Kai is one of my personal servants, and, like Gerda, he was also hired after my parents' deaths. While Gerda helps more with cleaning and figuring out my wardrobe, Kai deals with escorting me from place to place and helps keep me on schedule. Both of them are good friends to me and Anna.

In the throne room, a tall man with a beard to his chest stands in the center of the room. He glances up when he sees me: his expression is unreadable.

I nod my head in his direction, and he bows to me. "Queen Elsa," he says, "a pleasure to . . . finally meet you. I am King Jarl of the Southern Isles."

I tense at the title. "Prince Hans is your brother?" I say, trying to keep my voice as polite as possible.

He nods, his back still bent. "His actions to you and your sister are unforgivable. We have punished him as we have seen fit."

Nodding, I say, "I trust that what you see fit is well, King Jarl."

Smiling, he reaches out and takes my hand to kiss it. Although he has gloves on, there is something strange about his hands. They are cool and almost . . . slippery.

I restrain from shuddering once his lips have left my hand.

I walk up to my throne room, and sit down, and nod to Kai to bring a chair for the king. Once we are both comfortable, I say, "What is the occasion on which you have visited, King Jarl?"

King Jarl spreads his hands onto his lap and looks around the room before answering me. "Of course," he says, "I wanted to personally apologize for my brother's actions. To think that he would even try to kill you is preposterous — I couldn't imagine that my own brother would do such a thing. But yet, I could see the truth, and I knew it was no falsehood. You have my regret in not seeing the dastardly deeds of my brother before, and my sincere apologies."

"There is no need to apologize for your brother's actions," I say, "for they are not your own. I know this is not the only reason you have come," I add. An apology could easily have been sent through a message. Why travel all the way from the Southern Isles to just do that?

"You are as astute as ever, Queen Elsa," King Jarl says. "I have come to offer you a proposition."

I keep myself from leaning forward in interest. I must maintain a certain image as queen, and putting on any sort of emotion that could encourage someone as King Jarl would not be wise.

Since I am not saying anything, King Jarl continues, "I would like to suggest a union."

Unbidden, my eyebrows rise. "A union? Between the two kingdoms?" I know that is a stupid question, but the words slip out of my mouth before I can rein them back in.

"Quite right," King Jarl says. "I am here, Your Majesty, to propose a marriage between our two kingdoms."

The words ring across the hall, and I am sure, too, that my heartbeat is as loud as his daring words.

"And whom would I marry?" I say, my voice cold.

King Jarl looks pleased that I waste no pretense. Anna is already married, and there is no other heir to the throne. I am the only choice.

"Me," the king says, a smile on his face.

Of course, some part of me must've known this was coming.

I study the king, not even trying to hide that I am doing such a thing. He's not handsome, but he's not ugly. More of a second-rate version of his younger brother, Hans, who Anna once fell so in love with. I can deal with second-rate.

He is not as old as my father, nor is he as young as me. But he must be a good fifteen years older than me. Still.

A union between the two countries is a logical choice. The Southern Isles are small, but strong, the people knowing the art of weapons as well as they know their own bodies. In case of war, having the Southern Isles on our side would be an asset.

But am I willing to give up everything to marry King Jarl? Am I willing to give up Jack?

Am I willing to give up Ash?

As princess and not future queen, Anna never had the pressure to marry someone high-ranking. She could marry for love, as her dream always was. And she did such a thing, marrying Kristoff.

I . . . I've always hoped to marry for love, but I never thought that an opportunity to throw that all away would come so soon in my reign.

So what should I do?

King Jarl stands up and starts pacing the room. "As allies," he says, "as partners, we could be a strong nation. You must know that with your parents' deaths, other countries might seek to overthrow the new queen's reign."

My heart pounds. Yes, I know this. Yes, I have been keeping watch for this very thing. For treason within this castle, for threats from other countries.

"Together," he says, "we could protect both of our lands and our people, keeping them safe from any harm that may fall upon them. As I am sure you know, Arendelle and the Southern Isles are both small lands, both weak in certain aspects. However, joined together, we could fight off whatever person dares think they can hurt us. We can overcome anything. Just as long as we are united."

His speech is invigorating, I'll give him that. And it should help me make a decision. But I am still just as torn.

In one direction. Then in the other. Then back to the first. Then to the second.

King Jarl stares at me expectantly. He says, "I can wait all day, Your Majesty."

Good. He may have to.

"But I would like an answer by the time the sun rises tomorrow."

Ugh. Deadlines. As queen, I am quite used to them, but it doesn't make them any more pleasant.

"You shall have your answer," I say, and then I realize I don't know what to say. By the dawn? By sunset tonight? In an hour?

But the word slips out of me without any thought, "Now."

"Your Highness," my advisor whispers. "Perhaps you should think over this more. We need to discuss."

"No," I say. "I have made my decision."

King Jarl leans forward eagerly. "And what is that decision, oh Queen Elsa?"

His silky words do nothing to ease me. He believes he knows what I am going to say. He believes he has me in a corner, blocked from all other options. He believes I have no other choice.

I blink several times, quickly, and say, "As much as I see the benefits of your offer, King Jarl, I must refuse."

As soon as I started speaking, King Jarl's face lit up. First, with excitement, and then . . . with anger.

"You refuse me?" he says quietly.

I nod, unable to speak.

"You do know what you have done?" King Jarl says. "You have insulted me, personally, and you have insulted the Southern Isles."

"I realize the consequences my actions have," I say and my voice is as cold as the ice I control.

"I know the powers you wield, Queen Elsa," he hisses, and he starts forward.

"Guards!" I say, alarmed.

The guards stationed by the walls sprint forward to stop King Jarl from nearing me anymore.

"Dispose of him," I say flatly.

As the guards draw him away, King Jarl has his final word: _"I know who you are," _he says. _"You are nothing but a coward pretending to be brave!" _

"I'm not afraid," I say, but I do not know if it is to King Jarl, or to myself.

* * *

**Author's Note: So, what do you think? Still okay? I want to thank you all for the reviews you've left! You've given me a lot of insight on things I never thought of before, feedback, and encouragement! Thanks for reading!**

**- J. Dom**


	28. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Don't Shut Me Out

* * *

"Elsa," Jack whispers.

I jerk awake from sleep and open my eyes to see Jack peering over at me.

"What is it?" I whisper back.

"You didn't really mean what you said, did you?"

"What?" I sit up and start to stretch my muscles.

"I've been thinking about it," Jack says, planting his staff onto my icy floor and leaning against it. "I know what you feel for me. I can feel it, too. What you said that night . . . wasn't true. I've thought over it a thousand times in the last week . . . it can't be true. You were lying to me."

"Why would I do that?" I snap, standing up from my bed, and staring him in the eyes. I can't get used to the bright blueness.

"To protect me," he answers.

My heart thump. Thud. Thud. Thud. He knows. He's figured everything out. He knows about my innate desire to protect people, even if he doesn't really remember . . . _me_. Am I that transparent?

"I know you," Jack says. "I know who you are."

His words eerily remind me of what King Jarl said just earlier today before being escorted out of Arendelle. I hunch my shoulders, and say, "You don't know anything about me, Jack."

Hurt crosses his face, but it doesn't last. "You're doing it again," he says. "Trying to not be yourself so you can protect someone. Me."

"I don't love you!" I shout. "Not anymore, Jack! I admit that, three years ago, I did fancy myself in love. But now, I'm not. I've grown to love your brother, Ash. Can't you get that? _I'm not trying to protect you!_" Tears slip down my face, and that coupled with my words might as well have been a confession that, of course, I still do love Jack.

Jack's face softens. "Elsa," he says. "I know it must be hard for you. So hard . . . I can't even imagine. But don't you see? If you just . . . let someone in for a change . . . it won't be so hard. You can have someone else carry your burden. Someone else carry the weight of all your troubles. Let me be that someone, Elsa. Please. I want to be that someone."

"I have let someone in," I whisper. "But it's not you. It will never be you. Jack . . . it can't be you. I . . . I love you too much."

I can hear his intake of breath. I've never said those words before, to anyone but family. I never thought I would have the chance to say them to Jack.

I know love is a far, far thing, so distant that rarely do people even see it, let alone are able to grasp onto it. I don't even know that what I'm feeling is love. Love seems to be so present, everywhere, infiltrating everything. How can one differentiate between love and some other feeling? Rage, secrecy, grief . . . all can intertwine with love.

I don't know what I'm feeling.

But maybe . . . maybe saying the words out loud prove that what I'm feeling . . . is true.

"Please, Elsa," Jack says, and he's literally hanging on to his staff for support. "Don't shut me out again. I don't think I can live without you. Elsa . . . I've just been wandering around, wondering what my life is, and now . . . now I know what it means. It's you, Elsa. It's always been you."

His confession breaks my heart.

"I can't be with you, Jack," I say. "I'll hurt you. You could . . . die again because of me." I swallow. "I am the reason you died in the first place."

"What?"

I hadn't told him this. "I killed you," I say, "I can't do that again."

"What do you mean you killed me?" He leans forward, his blue eyes peering into mine.

"When you died . . . you didn't just fall into the water and freeze to death. I was dying and I couldn't control it. So I released ice from my body and one . . . it hit your heart. That's how you really died, Jack," I say. I motion to his hair. "That's why your hair is white, your eyes are blue. That's why you can control ice and snow. Because I struck you with ice . . . with me. . . ."

"Why didn't you tell me this?" he asks.

"I didn't want you to know. Why would anyone want anyone to know that they are the reason that person died?"

He looks down at the ground, at the ice that is thickening from my turmoil of emotions.

"Please, Jack," I beg, "please just leave me alone. Go away. Enjoy your life while you can. Don't think about me. Just . . . move on. Please."

"You can be heartless sometimes," Jack says softly. "You're not afraid to do what you have to do."

"I'm only doing this to protect you!" I cry, and I sink to the ground, holding onto my bedpost for support.

Jack kneels down beside me. "You don't have to protect me anymore," he says, and he walks to my window, opens it, and flies out.

* * *

**Author's Note: I'll try and update tomorrow with another chapter . . . meanwhile, here's chapter 27! Thanks for reading!**

**- J. Dom**


	29. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

We Can Fix This

* * *

Asta is in the same condition as she was yesterday. I don't know if this is progress or not.

Ash returns with empty hands and an emotionless face.

"Ash," I say, when I see him entering the throne room.

"Elsa," he says.

I stand up, and rush to his side, pulling him to a chair.

"You look horrible," I say. "Did you even sleep?"

He cracks his knuckles. "I feel horrible," he says, "and no, not really."

"You need to get some rest," I say.

"I need," he says, "to find a cure."

"Have you seen her yet?"

He gives me a look. "I just went there. She's . . . Elsa, she's not getting any better, but she's not getting any worse. I don't know if she'll get worse before it happens, or if she'll get better, or if it will just happen. But I can't let it happen. I'm not going to let it happen. I lost Jack. I'm not going to lose Asta."

It's clear he's losing it a bit.

I don't blame him.

"Ash," I say again, "you need to rest."

"No," he says, gripping my arm, "I heard of a place . . . just near here . . . a mountain . . . we can go look . . . maybe find . . . maybe find a cure."

"No, we're not," I say, and I grab him and pull him up. He doesn't fight against me. "You're going to die of exhaustion if you keep this up. Guards, help me."

With the help of the guards, we're able to get Ash back up to his room and lay him down on his bed.

"Elsa," he moans, as I'm covering him up, "I can't sleep. I have to find . . . Asta . . . a cure."

"You need to sleep," I say. I press my hand on his forehead. "You're burning hot."

He smiles deliriously. "Yeah, I am."

I resist from slapping him. "Just get some sleep, Ash. We'll find a cure later. I promise."

"You promise," he says, closing his eyes. I wait until his body relaxes and his breathing evens out before I leave.

"Watch him," I tell the guards, "and don't let him leave until I say so."

They nod, and as I turn my back to them, I let myself relax and my emotions show — just a bit. And only to myself.

The next day, someone pounds on my door. Loudly. Very loudly.

Groaning, I say, "Who is it?"

"It's me," Ash says, and his tone isn't happy.

"The guards weren't supposed to let you out," I say, rubbing my eyes, and getting out of bed to dress myself.

"I persuaded them," he says with a touch of sarcasm.

I open the door once I'm fully dressed, and say, "You look a bit better."

He crosses his arms. "Just a bit? I slept for sixteen hours."

"You needed it." I push myself past him and start walking down to the dining hall for breakfast.

"What I need is to find a cure for my sister so she doesn't _die_," he says, his voice harsh.

"You can't do that if you're dead," I shoot back, stopping and turning around to face him.

For a moment, we both just glare at each other. Then he starts to smile . . . and laughs.

And then we are both laughing.

"Elsa, Elsa," he muses, "you sure are stubborn sometimes, you know it?"

"So are you," I say.

He laughs again, and I'm comforted by the sound. It's good that he's letting out some stress.

Soon, though, the moment ends.

"I need to check on Asta," Ash says.

"I need to . . . check with Kai, see if there's anything I need to know." I roll my eyes. "See if we're about to get an attack from the Southern Isles." It's a bad joke.

Ash stares at me. "What?"

I tell him what transpired with King Jarl. His face turns from shock to anger to relief.

"I'm glad you refused him," he says. "I don't what I would've d— I mean, I don't know how Arendelle would fair with him as king."

"Part of why I refused him," I say.

For a second, there's quiet between us. I wish I could see what Ash was thinking, but his face remains blank.

Finally, he says, "Will you go up with me? To the mountain? To find a cure for Asta?"

"Of course," I say. "Of course I will."

"Good," he says. "I'm going to check on Asta and then I want to leave. Will you be ready by then?"

"Unless something urgent comes up that I need to attend to, yes."

"Good," he says. "I'll see you then."

* * *

According to Kai, we have no new threats from surrounding countries.

"We're climbing up a mountain to find a cure," I tell Kai. "It might be a few days. Just postpone all other appointments, all right?"

He nods. "As you wish, Your Highness. Though I would recommend coming back here as soon as possible. We are not in the most secure position at the moment, and our queen being gone does not help."

"I understand. Thank you. Oh, and please tell the servants to get my horse ready and to pack some essentials for a weeklong trip for two."

"A week?" Kai's brow creases.

"Just in case," I reply, walking off.

I walk to Asta's room where I find Ash standing by her bedside, just looking down at her.

"She's doing . . . okay," he tells me.

"Are you ready to go?" I ask him. "I've had servants pack things for us."

He gives one last, long look toward Asta before saying, "Yeah, I'm ready."

Asta stirs under his gaze before falling still again.

* * *

"So where exactly are we going?" I ask as we reach the gates and see our horses and packs ready to go.

"We're going to climb up the Eastern Mountain," he replies. "It's not far from the North Mountain, so it should only be a few days."

"Where did you hear this information?"

He glances over at me. "The Southern Isles."

Immediately, I tense up. "Do you think we should trust their word?"

"It's our last chance, Elsa," he says. "I have to take it. If you don't want to go, that's fine." The strain in his voice tells me what I'm going to do, though. I can't let him go alone.

"I'm going," I say.

He looks grateful. "Thanks, Elsa."

He helps me onto my horse, folding his arms around my waist and lifting me up onto its back. Once the warmth of his hands leave my side, I feel cold without them.

He mounts his own horse, I call for the gates to open, and we nudge the horses into a run. I freeze a pathway into the fjord as the horses race across it.

I see Ash look back at Arendelle, though, and see his mouth move as he whispers, "Don't worry, Asta. I'm going to fix this. Everything."

* * *

It takes us a full day of riding to even see the mountain. At sunset, I can just barely spot the peak of the Eastern Mountain. Unlike the North Mountain, with its sharp and narrow points and my glistening ice castle, the Eastern Mountain is more rounded and full.

The wind swirls around us, bitterly cold. Well, it would be cold for anyone else.

Ash shivers in his coat, and pulls his hood up on his head higher. He lets go of his horse's reins for a moment, and rubs his hand together, creating sparks and a small flame. I watch him as he does it, still entranced by the power he possesses. It is so different from mine, but still as awe-inspiring.

"Elsa," someone says.

I twist around and see Jack floating in the wind, his staff in hand, and his blue eyes staring into mine.

"What are you doing here?" I shout against the wind.

"What?" Ash shouts back.

I turn to Ash, and say, "Jack's here."

Anger fills Ash's eyes, but he doesn't respond.

"If what you say is true," Jack says, "Asta is my sister. You're going to look for a cure . . . I should help."

I'm a bit angry at Jack for tagging along without permission, but I let it slide. "Fine. Just . . . don't antagonize Ash, okay?"

Ash must've heard what I said because his shoulders hunch and his hands tighten around the reins.

"Okay," Jack says, and he smiles, "I'll try not to, but it seems like my dear brother does have an anger issue, doesn't it?"

I don't say anything back to that so Ash doesn't realize what Jack said.

"Do you want to camp for the night?" I shout over the wind.

"I'm fine," Jack shouts back, though he knows it wasn't him I was talking to.

"No," Ash says. "We have to keep going. We have no time to waste! Asta could — she could get worse any moment!" I notice how he can't say "die." That word is one feared by many, including me.

So we continue going. Night falls and the moon rises, shining its cold light upon us. We struggle through the snow and up the mountain. As the wind becomes worse, and the snow thickens, it's harder for us to make any progress.

"Ash!" I shout. "We have to stop! The horses . . ."

He looks back up at me, and I see pain in his face, but he nods. We walk a bit farther and find a large rock to gather under.

Jack, who had to resort to walking since the wind was too strong to fly in, huddles under the rock, and tries to warm himself. Apparently, he doesn't have my immunity to the cold.

Since there are no trees, we can't tie up the horses, so we have to trust that they'll stay. They don't seem to be in any hurry to leave, though, so I'm not too worried about them.

Ash starts a fire with his magic, and we all sit around it. Ash is staring right at Jack, though he thinks that he's staring out into the storm.

Finally, Jack says, "Why can't he see me, Elsa? Why only you?"

Ash sees me glance up, and he takes in a breath. "Is he still here?" he asks.

I nod. "He asked . . . he asked why you couldn't see him."

"I don't know," Ash says.

Jack shifts, unsatisfied with the answer. "You do know," he says, his voice accusatory.

"He thinks you do know," I say.

Anger sparks in Ash's eyes. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't," is his reply.

Jack huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. "Fine, if you don't want to tell me, that's your choice. Frankly, I don't see how we're even related. You seem to be all frowns and glares. . . . Me? I'm snowballs and fun times." He smiles and winks at me. To prove his point, he holds out his hand, and a snowball forms. He throws it and Ash.

"Hey!" The snowball mashes against Ash's face and he jumps up. The snow melts immediately, but there's still a reddish spot on his face from the snow's cold.

Ash glares around the vicinity and squints, trying to see Jack.

Feeling sorry for Ash, I point and say, "He's right there."

"You're no fun either, Elsa," Jack complains, but his tone is cheerful.

Changing the subject, I say, "We should all go to sleep. We have a long day ahead of us."

Ash stares past Jack and turns his head to see up the Eastern Mountain. "Yeah," he says, "we do."

We lay our bedrolls out, and try and get comfortable on the hard ground. Jack, who doesn't have a bedroll, just stands guard. I wonder if he's going to stay like that the whole night.

I close my eyes, and try to find sleep.

* * *

**Author's Note: Here's a nice longer chapter for you guys! Thanks for reading, and thanks for all the reviews - 62! You guys are awesome. **

**- J. Dom**


	30. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Safe From Me

* * *

"C'mon, Elsa," Ash says, shaking me, "it's time to get up."

"Mmmm." I open my eyes to see an empty, blank gray sky above me. Wriggling out of my bedroll, I rub my eyes to get rid of the sleep.

Ash hands me some bread with cheese for breakfast, which is nothing like what I'm used to, but I don't complain. I've survived on worse before.

Jack leans against the rock and waves hello to me. I hold out my bread toward him, but he says, "Nahh, I'm fine."

In truth, I've never seen him eat before. I wonder if he even gets hungry.

Once we're finished with breakfast, we saddle our horses again (they didn't run off during the night, thank goodness) and start up the mountain.

"What are we looking for?" I ask Ash. The wind is only a slight breeze now, so I'm able to talk without shouting.

"He didn't specify," Ash says. "He just said we'd know it when we saw it."

I can't believe that Ash is trusting this man's word. But I guess you do crazy things when you're desperate.

And Ash is nothing if not desperate.

The trek up the mountain is steep, but it doesn't get so steep we have to leave our horses behind, which is a good thing, because I don't really feel like walking back home.

We reach the summit of the mountain by noontime. You can just barely see the rays of the sun shining through an abundance of clouds, lighting our pathway. The snow and wind have stopped completely now, and the air is thin, but cool and clean.

"Um," Jack says, "is there supposed to be something here? Because if you look . . . well, there's nothing here."

Looking around, I realize he's right. There's nothing but wind and sky and the snow on the mountain beneath us.

"It has to be here somewhere," Ash murmurs, and he dismounts from his horse, and starts wading through the snow.

I dismount from my horse, and follow Ash, but after a while, it's only him moving. Jack and I just stare at each other and then back at Ash, who's moved around the whole summit about six times already and has dug through the snow several times, too.

"There's got to be something," Ash keeps saying to himself.

"Ash," I say quietly.

"There has to be something," he repeats, glancing up at me for only a second before going back to looking for something . . . something I'm sure isn't there.

"Is he crazy?" Jack asks me.

"Don't say that," I say. "He's just . . . desperate. Haven't you ever felt desperate, Jack?"

Ash doesn't even pay attention to me talking to Jack, too engrossed in something he's sure he'll find.

"Yeah," Jack says, "I know that feeling." He looks over at Ash. "He really is my brother, isn't he?"

"He is," I say. "What changed your mind about that?"

"I guess it's because I understand him now," Jack says. "The desperation that he feels . . . I've felt it, too, before . . . I don't remember when . . . but I know I have. And I know that I'd go to any lengths to stop it. Stop the desperation, I mean . . . we both would, it seems."

"Right," I say, "that's exactly right."

An hour later, and Ash finally has to conclude that there really is just . . . nothing.

"This can't be it," he says, standing in the snow, numb. "He said it would be here . . . at the summit . . . that I'd know it when I saw it . . ."

"Ash," I say, "he was probably lying to you."

"There has to be something!" Ash yells into the quiet air. "There has to be! This can't be incurable, unsolvable, it can't be! Asta . . . Asta can't _die_!"

Flames burst out of his hands and melt the snow around us. Ash glares down at his hands, and says, "Why do I have this stupid power? Why can't I save Asta? Why does it have to be something so . . . destructive?" As his emotions rise, the fire burns more quickly, surrounding him in flames.

"Ash!" I say. "Calm down."

"Elsa," Jack says, "we need to get away from here. He'll hurt you. . . ."

"Ash won't hurt me," I say. "He can't hurt me."

"Just like you can't hurt me," Jack inserts.

I look at him. "I can hurt you," I say. "I . . . tried to see if I couldn't, but I can. Jack, can't you see that?"

"No," he says, "I can't. I can't understand why you're letting something as stupid as your powers get in the way of us. Being together."

"It's not like I want it to be that way!" I cry. "Do you think I want to be alone my whole life?"

Fire bursts forth, and I throw up my hands, creating a shield of ice to stop the flames. "Ash!" I say. His eyes widen, and he breathes in deeply. The fire dissipates into the air.

"I'm sorry," he says, "Elsa, I'm sorry. I just . . ."

"I understand," I say, "but please, just keep it under control, okay? For Asta?"

He nods, his jaw tight. "For you, too," he says. "I don't . . . I can't hurt you."

"I know," I say.

"So this is it, huh?" Jack says, and I turn to see him, a rather ugly look on his face. "You two can't hurt each other? But me here, I'm vulnerable?"

Ash frowns. "Is he talking to you?"

I nod, and say, "Jack, it's not like that. I . . . I don't want to hurt you. I've told you that a thousand times."

"You. Can't. Hurt. Me," Jack snarls out, wrapping his hands around his staff.

Something breaks inside of me.

I say, "Don't you get it?! The fear that's inside me? That one day I'll kill someone — again? I can't hurt any of you ever again! I can't do it! Or I'll — I'll —"

"You'll what?" Ash asks softly.

Wild thoughts jump into my mind. Run away. Be free. Let it go.

Kill myself.

I squeeze my eyes shut. _Don't think like that, Elsa. Some people need you. The people of Arendelle need you. Their queen. _

"I don't want to die," I say loudly. "So, please, don't even give me the choice. Just go away, and leave me alone? Jack? Please?"

Jack's face crumples. "Elsa . . . ," he says.

"Please, Jack. Just leave me alone. Go somewhere where you can be safe from me. Live a happy, good life."

After a moment, Jack opens his mouth. "Fine," he says. "Fine. Whatever you say, Elsa. I'll do this for you . . . because I love you."

I'm glad Ash can't hear this. I don't know what that would do to him.

I can feel myself crumbling inside, bits of me falling into nothingness, vanishing into the cold, thin air. Pushing Jack away is something I hoped I would never have to do, but something I knew I would always have to do.

"Good-bye, Jack," I whisper, and then I turn away, and start walking down the mountain.

* * *

**Author's Note: Harsh. . . . Well, thanks for reading, people! I really am grateful. :D**

**- J. Dom**


	31. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

The Storm Inside of Me

* * *

Ash catches up to me a few minutes after I've started down the mountain, the reins to our horses in his hands.

"You forgot your horse," he says, and his voice is soft and gentle as to not set me off again.

"Thanks," I say, taking the reins from him, and mounting my horse.

As we continue our trek down the mountain, there is just the sound of the horses' breathing and their hooves on the snow.

Until Ash says, "He didn't want to leave, did he?"

I snort. "Far from it."

"Elsa . . . ," Ash starts. "I think you're right. That the reason I can't see Jack is because . . . deep inside of me, I don't want to. I don't want him in the way . . . of me and you. I know he loved you. I know that he probably still does. But I just want you to know . . ."

Ash pauses, and my heart speeds up in anticipation of what he's going to say.

". . . I love you, too."

The words are as quiet and fleeting as the wind, but they are just as present.

When I don't respond, Ash looks at me, and says, "It's time I told you . . . about my past."

* * *

"No one else knows this," he says, "other than Jack and Asta."

He stares ahead of us as the horses continue to plod down the mountain, his face distant. He pulls on the reins and the horse stops as he dismounts. He helps me down, and we both sit on the ground together, facing each other, our knees barely touching.

I don't say anything, but just let him talk and let it all out. Whatever he's going to tell me . . . he's been carrying it around for a long time.

"You know that my parents died," he says quietly.

I nod.

"I never told you how, though, did I?"

I shake my head.

His voice is barely above a whisper as he says, "They died . . . because of me."

I don't say anything to that. I can't say anything to that. How could I?

"I was just playing around," he says. "I was about twelve, and Jack was ten, and Asta was barely five. I remember because it was her birthday that day. Anyway, I was showing Jack my powers . . . creating little bursts of fire. I thought it was amazing, what I could do. I thought I was so . . . so gifted." His words are bitter. "Jack got just a bit too close, and I was scared that he was going to get burnt. So I sent the fire away from him, as quickly as I could. It caught the house on fire. . . ."

I'm quiet.

"Mom and Dad came running," he says, "but by then, the fire was out of control. They were trapped inside of the house as it surrounded them. They had nowhere to go. I was able to get Jack and Asta away, but by the time I got back to the house . . . it was too late. They were gone." He chews on his lip and looks down, trying to keep his feelings inside. "They died . . . because I couldn't control it. After that, I swore to myself that I'd never let anyone get close again. That I'd be a good brother, but that I wouldn't hurt them. That I'd never use my powers again.

"I got good at it, concealing my powers. But it was so hard. Every moment, they tug at me, trying to get me to use them. It's like they're a living thing. Like a . . . storm. Constantly moving, never really gone. Lightning and thunder and rain, all tearing at me. I forced them to stay quiet, to hide from other people. It wasn't easy, but I was able to do it.

"But then, someone in Inmeracia found out about it. They put two and two together, and figured that one of us at least had to have powers. The people of Inmeracia may glorify differences, but they don't put up with magic. Asta, Jack, and I had to leave. That's when we came here, and that's when I met you.

"I didn't want to let you get close, but I was so . . . drawn to you. Every time you came around, I felt different. Electrified, almost. I knew something was up, but I didn't know what. I thought that what I was feeling was my guts telling me to stay away from you.

"When Jack was dying in that water . . . that was the first time I purposefully used my powers in years. Maybe he died because I hadn't used it in so long. But I don't think so. The urge to use my powers had been growing since I'd stopped. It was so addictive, to use them. But I pushed it away because I knew I couldn't hurt my family again. But when I tried to save Jack, it all came out so easily. I was afraid I was going to hurt him more, but somehow I controlled it. I still don't know how, but I did.

"And then you . . . you used your powers. When I saw them . . . it was so beautiful. Elsa, you're so beautiful, even when you don't know it."

Ash stares up at me, but I look away, trying to process this new information.

"Elsa," he says, a bit desperately, "please say something."

I don't say anything. Instead, I lean forward, wrapping my hands around his, and I kiss him.

His mouth melts into mine, his hands so warm against mine, his body so close to mine. I'd always thought my first kiss would be different. Not on top of a freezing mountain. Not after he just confessed that he accidentally killed his parents. Not with Ash. Not even with Jack. In my dreams, the boy I kissed was always a stranger.

But Ash isn't a stranger.

He's my best friend and now . . . maybe something more?

We part, and Ash breathes out, like he'd been holding it.

"Elsa . . . ," he whispers, "did you mean to do that?"

I laugh, and slap his arm. "Don't be stupid. Of course I meant to do that."

He looks so surprised that I laugh again.

"I just never thought . . . ," he says, "that you'd like me back. I thought it was always Jack for you."

"Jack . . . it's complicated," I say. "But, Ash, I love you. I love you so much."

And I kiss him again, and this time, he smiles against my lips, and wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer to him.

When we separate, I say, "We should probably get back."

He nods, but there's a little bit of a dazed look in his eyes. I'm not quite sure if he knows what he's agreeing to.

"The person who told you about this mountain . . ."

Suddenly, a thought comes to me, and I don't know why I didn't think of it before: Why would the man Ash talked to lie to him about the cure?

"Ash," I say urgently, "what do you remember about the person you talked to?"

"I don't know," Ash says, still a bit dazed, "I talked to so many people about a cure. He . . . I think he was short, had a beard, brown eyes. . . ."

It's not Jarl then, or Hans trying to overthrow Arendelle again. So who could it be? Someone hired to tell Ash that to . . . to what?

The thought enters my mind: _Get you away from Arendelle. _

"I think we need to go back," I say. "I think someone . . . from the Southern Isles . . . is trying to take Arendelle."

Ash licks his lips. "That can't be right."

I tell him my suspicions.

"How would they know you'd go with me, though?" Ash asks. "How did they even know that you and I are close?"

"Spies," I say, my heart sinking. "We must have spies."

Who could it be? Could it be the same person who tried to kill me all those years ago that we never found?

Ash considers this. "You're right," he says, "we should go back. Asta . . . she could be in danger."

* * *

**Author's Note: Mmm. There was some flip-flopping of tones in this chapter, wasn't there? Hope you guys liked it anyway! Thanks for reading!**

**- J. Dom**


	32. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

There's So Much Fear

* * *

We race back down the mountain. Every moment, I expect to see Jack flying beside us, but he doesn't appear at all during our journey.

It only takes us a day to ride back to Arendelle, and by the time we reach the place . . .

"Oh, no," I whisper.

"Quick," Ash hisses, "we have to hide."

We dismount and lead our horses over behind a copse of trees as we stare past the fjord and to Arendelle.

No one is entering or leaving the gates, which is unusual for Arendelle, a large trading country. That's when I see the fjord, and the two dozen large battleships in the water, empty, the Southern Isles flag flapping in the wind. I hear shouts and cries and screams coming from the city. They break my heart.

How could I have been so stupid? The signs were all there . . . how could I have missed them and left my people? Who knows what's happening to them now? Torture . . . death. . . .

"Elsa," Ash whispers, "we need to get in the castle, and get Asta."

"And Anna and Kristoff and Olaf and Sven," I rattle off, a bit hysterical.

He nods. "We'll need to carefully plan it out. But there's only two of us . . . we'll need reinforcements. You and me, we can do some damage, though."

"What?" I ask, frazzled, my thoughts gone wild.

"You and me," he repeats. "With our powers. We can take back Arendelle."

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no," I say, "I'm not using my powers. What if I hurt one of my subjects?"

"You won't hurt one of them," he says. "And we have to take the chance. By the looks of things, they just made siege onto the castle. We can sneak in there, get everyone out safely and then take back what's yours."

"I can't do this," I say. "It's too dangerous. We should leave now and get reinforcements before coming back."

"We _can _do this!" Ash says. "We need to get Asta out! And your sister and her husband!"

I lick my lips. "Okay, but I'm not going to use my powers. It's too dangerous. We sneak in there, get them out, and then we leave for reinforcements. No attacking people, no taking back what is mine. It's too dangerous right now, and I can't put anyone else in danger."

"You are by waiting!" he says. "C'mon, Elsa, you and I we can do it."

"Don't forget about me," a voice says.

I turn around to see Jack, leaning against a tree, his staff in hand. He nods at me, but doesn't give me a smile like usual.

"Is he here?" Ash asks in a strained voice.

I nod. "I think he's going to help us."

Ash doesn't look happy about it, but he says, "Fine. Right now, we need all the help we can get."

We all stare over the fjord and to Arendelle, where I can still hear the screams of my people.

* * *

_End of Part 4_

* * *

**Author's Note: And now we are 4/5 the way through the story! Just so you all know, this story is 44 chapters long, so we still have thirteen more chapters until the end. Also, I have written four extra little bonus chapters that reveal some information that wasn't addressed in the actual story. (Oh, and they're from different POVs, too, that are not Elsa's, that is. :) ) So there's something to look forward to after this story. **

**As always, thanks for reading!**

**- J. Dom**


	33. Part 5 — Chapter 32

_Part 5 — Alone (Let It Go)_

* * *

Chapter 32

Like This Swirling Storm

* * *

That night, as we huddle behind a few rocks, a storm starts. An impossible storm. Lightning strikes continually and the thunder rolls so often I'm not sure if it even stops.

I don't sleep. Even if I could with the thunder and lightning, I couldn't with knowing that I'd abandoned my people. That they're possibly being tortured or killed right now. I don't know what's happening to them, but every time I close my eyes, scenes play before me, things that threaten to rip the tears right from my eyes.

This is all my fault.

Later, when the sun starts to seep over the horizon, the three of us rise, and start to plan on how we're going to infiltrate the castle. My castle.

"I estimate that they have at least three thousand men inside Arendelle," Ash says.

I gulp. The number might not be very big in respect, but Arendelle is a small country, and three thousand experienced fighters from the Southern Isles could easily overtake it.

"They'll probably have guards stationed in every corner," Ash says. "We can't just barge in there and hope to get out alive, so we'll have to be stealthy. They won't see Jack coming." Ash nods in the direction of where he thinks Jack is. "So we have the upper hand in that. He can scout ahead of us and dispatch anyone who gets in the way."

Jack inspects his staff, pretending to be uninterested. "And exactly how am I suppose to dispatch people, dear brother?"

I repeat what Jack said, sans "dear brother," to Ash.

"You have ice powers, right?" Ash says, looking up from the ground and trying to pinpoint where Jack is. As Jack is floating in the air, it's not easy for him. Eventually, he lands his gaze somewhere on Jack's shoulder. "You can . . . I don't know . . . freeze their mouths shut and then freeze them to a wall."

"Brilliant plan," Jack says sarcastically, and he lands on the ground with a thump. Ash's eyes dart to the imprint in the snow of Jack's feet.

"So what about me and you?" I ask.

"Once Jack has disposed of the guards," Ash says, "you and I will follow him, make sure they can't shout for help or whatever, and then make our way as quickly as we can to find everyone we need to. We'll have to look for where they're keeping them . . . by now, they must've gotten a hold of the whole castle. Asta, they might've left alone because she's sick. But they surely won't leave Anna and Kristoff alone. They're probably somewhere where there are a lot of guards, maybe with someone really important."

"Do you think King Jarl did this?" I ask. "Because I refused him?"

"It's possible," Ash says, "but I wasn't there when you talked to him. Did he seem capable of something like this?"

I think back to the meeting. How, when I refused him, he became angry and got this manic look in his eyes, how he tried to . . . what? What was he going to do when he was approaching me? Strangle me, perhaps. He certainly did look capable of it.

And capable of this.

"It has to be him," I say. "He's responsible for this." I look down at the ground, and my hands form into fists. "He's going to pay."

* * *

**Author's Note: Short chapter here, so I'm uploading a second one (which is short, too . . .). To answer a question one reviewer asked: the four bonus chapters I have written will be in addition to the full 44 chapter-long story. There's also an epilogue after the 44 chapters, so this story will end up having 49 total parts. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**- J. Dom**


	34. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Break Through

* * *

The weather gets worse as the day wears on. The ground starts to shake like we're having a perpetual earthquake and the water in the fjord is boiling and roiling. The lightning and thunder have decreased, but only slightly.

We plan all day until there is nothing else we can think of. Every option we tried yielded minimal success, but we finally settle on the one Ash had first suggested.

We wait until nightfall to make our move.

Since there is no way to get across the fjord without being seen, we have Jack fly ahead and get rid of all the guards. Then, I freeze the waves and we cross.

Images flash across my mind as we cross the fjord. The whole fjord frozen, ships stuck in the ice. A swirling storm around me, not letting me go of its grip. Anna, sacrificing herself for me.

What are they doing to her right now?

As we cross the fjord, the wind picks up, tearing at our clothes and hair, almost blinding us with its force. It gets harder with each step, but finally, we make it to the gates.

Jack opens the gates for us, and we walk into the city.

The streets are completely abandoned, when usually people would be having fun, playing games, celebrating something. We don't see any guards for a while, but still we are careful to check around every corner, and to step lightly, and to hide behind the houses if we hear even the slightest noise.

Eventually, we make it to the castle.

We take the way I've known since childhood: a secret passage that I doubt the people from the Southern Isles have found yet. We wind our way past the gates of the castle and to the side, where hidden behind a rock, is a small door. Crouching down, I see that it's locked. I touch the lock, and a bit of ice covers it. I yank on it, hard, and the lock shatters.

I open the door and start to crawl through, but Ash puts his hand on my shoulder. "Let me," he says.

He kneels down and worms his way into the small hole. Jack and I follow him.

The tunnel is a lot smaller than I remember it being.

"This is pleasant," Jack says.

"Shh," I say.

"What? It's not like there's anyone to hear us here."

"You never know," I whisper, looking forward where I can see a bit of light.

We stop once we reach the light. I say, "We're in the ceiling, so we're going to have to drop down."

I see Ash nod in front of me. He peers down the hole, then opens the hatch, and drops through.

"It's safe," he calls up to us.

I crawl to the hole, and drop. Ash catches me by the waist and gently puts me down. He moves out of the way for Jack.

Once we're all together again, I glance around me. We're in the servants' quarter, which is abandoned like most of the city.

"Where are all the guards?" I whisper.

"Doesn't matter," Ash says. "We need to find Asta."

And Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven.

I repeat their names in my head, like a mantra, trying to comfort myself. I would know if something bad happened to them, I would feel it.

Wouldn't I?

We creep around the corners until we reach Asta's room. Ash takes in a deep breath and opens the door.

The room is empty.

"No," Ash says.

There's a clanking behind us, and I say, "We have to go. Ash —"

He hears the noise, too, looks up, and closes the door on us. "They won't look in here," he says, but he doesn't sound sure of himself.

The clanking noise stops right outside of the room we're hiding in, and for a moment, we all hold our breaths in case that's what the person outside can hear.

Then, the noise moves on, and all is silent again.

Ash glances at Jack and I, and we both nod, so he opens the door and we see —

A dozen men stand before us. They wear dark clothing and each one has a sword or spear or bow pointed at us.

* * *

**Author's Note: A lot is going to happen in the next few chapters and I admit that I probably could've made it better so it made more sense, but I got a bit lazy. :P But anyway, there are going to be several little twists (I'm not sure if they actually count as twists - more like surprises, maybe?) that are going to come up. So brace yourselves. Haha. Thanks for reading!**

**- J. Dom**


	35. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Now They Know

* * *

"Queen Elsa," one of the men says, smiling at me. He is small of stature, with a short beard, sideburns, and eyes that remind me of . . .

I put on my best authoritative voice and say, "I demand to speak with King Jarl."

The man smiles. "You're talking to him."

I think back to when I saw the king. That man was tall, with a long beard, no sideburns. But the eyes . . . I realize why they look familiar now. I push away this peculiarity, not having time to think about it.

"Tie them up and put them with the others," the man pretending to be King Jarl says.

The soldiers rush forward. Ash starts to struggle, but I say, "Stop. They could be taking us to Anna."

So we let them tie us up. Jack floats in the air above us, silent, as we're led upstairs and to the throne room.

Anyone of importance sits inside the large room, their hands tied up, gags over their mouths. Their eyes widen when they see me and some of them start to struggle, only to be hit by a guard nearby.

"Anna!" I cry when I see her, Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven.

She struggles against her bonds, but is unable to say anything, so she just stares up at me, sorrow in her face. _I'd hoped you got away, _her expression is saying.

"I would never leave you," I whisper.

We're thrown down onto the ground next to Anna. Ash yells out, "Where's my sister? What have you done with her? Where's Asta?" but there is no reply.

After a while, the man who said he was King Jarl appears again. His short demeanor may not look frightening, but the emotions on his face are: greed, satisfaction, a sinister look.

"What happened?" I ask. "What are you trying to accomplish by making siege upon Arendelle?"

"Arendelle is a beautiful country," the man says (I cannot think of him as the king). "Its land is ripe for harvesting, its people stubborn but pliable . . . but it is its queen that I am truly interested in."

"What do you mean?" My voice cracks and my hands shake. A few guards around us tighten their hands on their weapons.

"Your powers, of course," the man says. "How interesting they are . . . to be able to control ice and snow. It is an outlet of water I've never seen. It has such potential, but is so limited also."

"You want me . . . for my powers."

"Your beauty would be an asset, too," says the man, and smiles at me, a devious smile.

Ash growls beside me. "You're not going to get away with this," he says. "I don't think you know who you're dealing with."

"On the contrary," the man says. "As the king, I know everything. I know about your fire powers, Ash Frost. I know about your brother, too. Dead but resurrected."

"How do you —"

"Honestly, it's not hard to find out secrets in here. A few well-placed spies, and myself, and I can easily find out everything I need to know about you." He glances at me. "It doesn't help that the queen herself once spilled all her secrets and problems to me."

I frown. I don't remember doing any such thing.

And then . . . I remember a certain servant. He seemed so excited to meet me. What were his eyes like? Were they the same shade of brown as King Jarl's and the man who now stands before me?

Yes, I think they were.

And then . . . another memory comes back to me. The cook. Her eyes were brown, too.

"You're a shapeshifter," I say.

"Good guess," King Jarl says, "but not quite. I deal with illusions, with the elusive sight, with deception. Maybe I am not as powerful as some of my brothers, but I am smarter and more cunning than any of them which makes me fit as leader."

"You tried to kill me once!" I say. "Why would you do that if you wanted me and my powers?"

"Of course, that was before I knew you had powers. I admit, you hid it well, I can't believe I didn't see it before. Now, I am glad your little friend saved you from my poison."

"Why did you want to kill me in the first place?"

"Arendelle is a secluded country, but it doesn't know its full potential. Ruling it with my brothers, I can make it so much more."

"Your brothers," I say in a strained voice, "are they gifted also?"

"Gifted." King Jarl snorts. "An interesting way to put it, Queen Elsa, as you yourself don't think of your powers as a gift. However, you are right about us. Except for the failure Hans, we are _gifted_. We revel in our powers, in our abilities to control the elements, the mind, the eyes."

"The storm outside . . . that's your doing."

"It's not a natural storm, that is for sure," King Jarl says. He smiles again. "You would be an asset to us, Queen Elsa, with your unique powers. Join us, and I will give you back your kingdom."

"What do you want with my powers?"

"I want to help you find your full potential," King Jarl says. "I want to help you learn how to fully control them."

"How can you do that?" I can't help being curious.

"My brothers and I have spent years mastering our respective powers. We know more about magic than anyone else in the world, even the trolls you so foolishly put your faith in."

"What do you mean?"

"The trolls are not all what they seem, Queen Elsa. They are deceitful creatures, only searching in benefiting themselves, glorifying in the groveling of humans."

"That's not true," I say. "They've helped us before."

"To entertain themselves!" King Jarl starts to pace, kicking some people's legs and arms out of the way. "Why did they approve your parents' decision to seal you away from the people, to not tell you how to control your powers? Why did they tell your sister how she could be saved, but not do it themselves? They know these things, and I admit, they have great magic, but they do not use it to help us humans. They use it for pleasure only, to satisfy their greedy needs."

"You're lying," I hiss.

"Why would they help you, Queen Elsa? Why would they help your sister? What incentive do they have to do such a thing?"

I don't know. For the greater good?

King Jarl smiles when he hears no answer from me.

"The trolls are malevolent creatures, and we will destroy them. Obliterate every single one of them."

"Is that your goal?" I ask. "To kill all the trolls? Why? Why would you want to do that?"

"The trolls have wronged me in the past," King Jarl says. "It is my destiny to rid the world of their evil. And to truly become as powerful as we are destined to become, we can't have the trolls hindering our way. Their actions are too unpredictable, too uncontrollable."

"What do you mean?" I ask. "'To truly become as powerful as we are destined to become'?"

"Do you know why magic is in the world, Queen Elsa?" King Jarl asks, his eyes shining with anticipation.

I shake my head. I've wondered, so many times, am I human or not? Am I unnatural or normal? How many others are like me? Where did magic even come from?

"Magic is here, inside of us, inside of you and me, because we have a destiny. Fate has pulled us from our ordinary lives and given us gifts we can barely begin to even imagine. Why would Fate do such a thing? Because they must have an ultimate purpose in mind. There must be something we are destined for. To save the human race, to save the world, the universe.

"We must find our purpose, and to do so, first we need to kill the trolls. Magic-users cannot live with the trolls in our way. Once the trolls are extinct, we must then unite all magic-users, and we must carry out our destinies."

"You're crazy!" Ash says.

It does sound a little far-fetched to me.

"I have a purpose, and I must fulfill it." King Jarl stops pacing. "Now, Queen Elsa, you have a choice now: What will you choose? To join me in the truth, or continue to be deceived by the trolls' lies?"

I can't imagine anyone wanting to kill a troll. They're so . . . loud and heavy and fun-loving, but also wise and powerful. I have never seen anything that points to the fact of them being evil.

"You're crazy," I say, repeating what Ash said, "and I will never join someone like you."

Surprisingly, King Jarl smiles again. "You are willful, young queen, and strong. But you are foolish also, and your stupidity will only cost you."

He steps forward and morphs into . . . my father.

"I never loved you, Elsa," Father/King Jarl says. "You were always a disappointment to me. You could never do what I asked. Besides, who could love a monster?"

"Stop it," I say.

Father changes into Mother.

"Elsa, why couldn't you just control it? You hurt your sister, you almost killed her! What is wrong with you?"

_These aren't your parents. They aren't real. They would never say something like this. _

I know they wouldn't.

Mother transforms into Jack . . . the old, brown-haired, brown-eyed Jack.

"You killed me, Elsa!" Jack screams at me.

"No!" I shout, and ice starts to cover my bonds. The rope hardens around my wrists, growing cold.

Finally, Jack disappears, and King Jarl returns to his original form.

"People are so easily manipulated," he sneers.

"You're right," I say. "They are."

Several things all happen at once then: I break through my bonds, Anna sweeps her legs under King Jarl's, and he crashes to the floor. Ash burns through the rope around his hands. Jack flies down next to me, holding his staff in a defensive position.

Jack, Ash, and I start untying the rope around Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven. Once we're done, we all grab hold of each other, and run out the door of the throne room, through the castle, past guards who shoot arrows and spears at us, through the gates, past the fjord, until we are long, long gone.

* * *

**Author's Note: So, at one point of time, I considered having the final battle go on now, but then I decided to add in a few more chapters to add some more suspense and character development. So, this is why they have such a sudden, probably-not-that-believable escape. :P Thanks for reading! ^_^**

**Oh, and to answer a reviewer's question: In the last chapter, while they were going over the fjord and through the city, Jack was right with them the whole time. Elsa would've made a point to say that "Jack flew ahead to dispatch the guards" or whatever. So, hope that clears it up a bit. (And yes, I know there are probably a lot of plot holes in this story that I never realized . . . if you see one, you can tell me, but it probably won't change anything. I would, however, love to hear them, so I can keep it in mind for the future. :) )**

**- J. Dom**


End file.
